


Sensual Apple Acres

by Kattlarv



Category: My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic
Genre: F/M, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-10
Updated: 2014-06-10
Packaged: 2018-02-04 03:55:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 23,375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1764611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kattlarv/pseuds/Kattlarv
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The apple siblings have always been close, and in this story, they'll realize just how close by taking their "family bonds" to a whole new level, while trying to resist their urges along with avoiding the social stigma. If you like Applecest, this should be an appealing story to you. If you dislike incest, this definitely is not the story for you xP<br/>Alt title: Peaches</p><p>(Note: If there's any questions regarding this fics origin, please mail me about it and I'll explain)</p><p>NOTE: I use gender neutral words and descriptions in this fic. Aka: "As long as they work anatomically". So terms like "getting hard" is applied to both males AND females, as females actually do get erections. This is because it's hard to write a female as even remotely in lead/on top in any situation with only the "approved" terms for females sexually. Being "wet", "tight/tiny" and "pussy". So... yeah, expect to be expected to have an open mind for things like that. All terms work however in the end, I promise that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sensual Apple Acres

Applejack was sweating.

It wasn’t the physical exertion. Bucking apple trees, for somepony of her physique, was something that nopony would ever see or hear her complaining about. The apples descended from their perennial captors with the usual grace - landing, without fail, into the buckets priorly appropriated for that purpose. It was an act that had long since become second nature to the Earth Pony. With minimal thoughts towards the physical motions, she moved from one tree to the next, only partly conscious of doing so. She was only indistinctly aware that she was performing, with such casualness that completely belied the force required, acts that no other pony in town could accomplish even if they threw their entirety into the effort.

And still, she was sweating.

Her mind was wracked, occupied. Spectres of desire shaped themselves. Images swarmed and infected her consciousness as another group of ignored apples, with a series of dull thwacks, piled themselves into the baskets. He was all she could think about. How long had it been since she had seen him? It had to be at least four hours at this point. No, the aching in her body suggested even longer. Half a day? More?

This was why she was sweating. This was why her blood pooled itself into her head, causing her face to become flushed. This was why, if anypony had been observing her, they would have assumed the physical strain had finally gotten to the workhorse. This was why her focus was far from the farm that she corporeally occupied. She was unable to shake him, even had she desired to do so. He was omnipresent.

She sighed. She needed to see him again.

Resigned, she set off on a fitful trot through the farm. This was their farm, his and hers. Granny Smith, too old, Apple Bloom, too young. No, the delights of cultivating this secluded patch of Equestria belonged only to the pair. She glanced around as she walked, searching. Dozens of trees already bucked, hundreds of apples neatly stacked in their appropriate containers. This was the livelihood of the farm, of the family. Their handiwork kept the food on the table, kept the loves of their lives going. They truly made an excellent team, complementing each other like lock and key.

Her gaze penetrated the thick forest, scanning for him. Her ears were perked - eager for the telltale echo of a recently emptied branches. She panicked after only a few minutes of fruitless searching. Breaking into a full gallop, the thoughts of him continued to assault her. She wanted him. She needed him, right now. A desperate, pitiable cry of his name almost escaped her lips as a sharp crack, emanating from somewhere up ahead, reverberated through their woods, destroying any question she had as to his presence. She smiled, came to a stop, and recomposed himself.

Attracted to the signal of proximity like it was the song of a siren, she wandered in its direction, emerging from the thickest part of the forest into area comparatively sparse. On a small hill containing but a single tree at its zenith, she saw him.

As if Celestia herself stood in awe of her brother’s rustic charm, the sun was lowering itself submissively behind the hill on which the large Earth Pony stood. The fiery orb shrunk, casting the pale orange of near-twilight over the area. Despite her desire to be as close to him as she possibly could, the divine sublimity of the entire scene forced the orange workpony to a stop, her legs uncharacteristically quivering in anticipation and awe.

He was covered in sweat, just as she, though his a purely physical response. Glancing backwards as another kick was aimed at the singular tree, he raised him strong legs and bucked backwards, sending another loud crack through the forest and causing the tree to vibrate intensely. The apples, however, were stubborn, and only a few surrendered to the strength of the orange maned Earth pony. She was sure, had she been closer, she would have heard a cuss of some kind in response to this. He grit his teeth and placed another powerful kick squarely in the middle of the trunk. The tree swayed violently in response, and released its fruits to the earth. His characteristic collar almost slid off of him as a result of his efforts. He straightened up, and shrugged it back into place, covering his neck in a familiar set of movements. When he returned his gaze upwards and glanced around for the next unbucked tree, his eyes fell on his sister - marching towards him with determination.

Big Macintosh grinned, and started trotting towards her.

They met at the base of the hill, both of them drenched in sweat and panting slightly from exertion. They stared at each other, neither of them saying anything. Applejack could only paw the ground nervously at the sight of her little sister, and the grin he now wore purely from her presence.

"Shoot, Applejack, you done with your crop of apples already? I was hopin' I'd be able to beat your record this time!"

She didn't say anything. She couldn't say anything. She was enraptured by his splendor. Her body felt like it was on fire, a flame of passion and lust starting deep inside her and spreading out through her entire body. Her face was flushed. Big Macintosh noticed her strange behavior and his expression turned from one of happiness to one of genuine concern.

"You okay, Applejack?" he asked, stepping closer to her. With the sun now shrunk to a tiny sliver on the horizon, the field around them became darker and darker. “You sure do look funny...”

"...yup..." she was finally able to stutter out. Her eyes never left his.

"...It's getting late out, AJ. Thinkin' about heading inside soon?" He asked, still concerned. She nodded in way of reply.

"...I have a few more trees to rustle, then I'll meet you back inside, okay?" Once more, she nodded. He smiled and leaned into her even closer. Wrapping his hooves around her neck, he pulled the smaller workhorse into a hug.

"You did real good today, lil’ sis. I love you." he whispered, his lips brushing against her ear. He smelled of dirt and apples and sweat. She had to stifle a whimper.

After what seemed like an eternity, he finally allowed the embrace to break and pulled back. With a final wink and smile, he trotted off to collect the last batch of fruits for the day, leaving Applejack standing there, shivering.

When he neared the edge of the field, he turned around, nervously, but Applejack had already disappeared. He hoped she didn't notice how red his face was, or how much his limbs quivered when he pulled her close. Big Macintosh, having worked on the farm all his life, was more than apt to notice the symptoms of a needy animal, and he saw them completely evident in his sister. He wondered which stallion in town had captured her imagination, and chuckled lightly whenever he thought it might be one of his friends. He must have been a fine stallion to have her acting the way she did. She was so, well... _ **vigorous**_. He tried to shake such dirty thoughts from his mind whenever they cropped up, but had long ago given up on abandoning them completely.

And who could blame him? He'd grown up with her always at his side. Despite the chaos that occupied his early years, he always had her there for him. He shared his loves with her, and his pain. She was the most important pillar in the foundation of his life.

So when they had grown, and Granny Smith had sat the two of them down and, with clinical efficiency, explained the mechanics of reproduction to the growing foals, how could he avoid thinking about her? He'd seen animals mate on the farm, and he's been near Applejack long enough that every inch of her body was familiar. She, inexorably, became the inevitable bar to which every mare in his life was compared to, and found lacking. Even during his very first moment of sexual intimacy, when, in a drunk and excited fit of passion, he ran behind the building that hosted his senior prom with his date, he found his thoughts drawn to her. As he stumbled through the movements and awkwardly gave himself to an equally nervous mare, he wondered, however briefly, how Applejack performed her first time. He wondered how much his sister knew about the art of love-making, and how she pleasured her first stallion, whoever he had been. The mares size certainly begged comparison to AJ’s. And when that same mare broke his heart two months later,  he was once more compelled to thoughts of his little sister, and he knew she would never hurt him like that.

He knew he shouldn't be having thoughts like this about his sister. No one had to tell him how wrong it was. The fact that his breathing shouldn't grow ragged and short at the thought of her, or that his eyes shouldn't dart to her private area whenever she turned around, and that he shouldn't find herself growing hot and agitated as he stared was completely obvious to Big Macintosh. The dreams he had, from which he would wake up, panting and frustratingly aroused, images of Applejack fleeting from his consciousness, were wrong, he knew. Nothing would ever happen between the two of them, he knew. It was a purely biological response. He convinced himself that he was operating purely in the realm of fantasy, and that, one day, he'd leave Applejack behind once he found the mare of his dreams.

_'sides_ , he thought to himself with a chuckle,  _I don't even reckon Applejack would be interested in me in that way_

Big Macintosh could already smell the delightful aroma of baked apples and cinnamon even as he marched up the long dirt road towards the house. Granny Smith and Applebloom already had dinner ready and on the table for him by the time walked into the kitchen, Winona hopped in excited circles around him. Applejack was already sitting there, shoveling her meal into her mouth, but looked up when he walked into the dining room.

"Starved, AJ? Now I know why you were in such a rush out there! So hungry you even missed a few trees. Not like you, sis." he said, mock-admonishingly

She paused for a second, and blinked at him, the remnants of a ravaged apple pie dripping off of her muzzle and onto the messy tablecloth below her. Then, she grinned widely without a trace of guilt and dived back into the food. He shook his head, smiling, and moved to sit next to her. There was an expansive feast laid in front in them: Baked apples and apple fritters and apple pies and all sorts of other fruits and vegetables, most of which were rarely seen in meals on Sweet Apple Acres. There was a reason; it was a special day. The harvesting season had come to an end, and, if the initial estimates were anywhere close to accurate, they had pulled in one of their finest hauls in many years. Certainly, it was the most prosperous that Big Macintosh and Applejack had been old enough to participate in. Such an accomplishment deserved celebration, and thus the assortment of desserts and treats laid out in front of them. Applebloom excitedly moved from one end of the table to the other, explaining in a frenzied and shrill voice how she had help to construct each dish.

Big Macintosh, barely listening, pulled in a few of the nearest foods and piled them onto a plate. He'd worked hard and nonstop all day and was ravenous. Picking up a baked apple, he rolled it around in him hooves and examined it for burns or foreign objects that did not belong in a pie. After all, it  _was_  Applebloom who helped with these. Detecting nothing but perfection, he stuffed it into his mouth. He couldn't wait to sample them all, and picked up another baked goods. Apple Bloom and Granny Smith chatted to each other at one end of the table, slowly eating their own comparatively diminutive meals.

He just swallowed down a large piece of apple crisp when he noticed, beside him, that Applejack had stopped eating her meal. When he turned around to see what had interrupted the previously voracious pony, she was staring at him, her meal lying ignored on her plate.  He laughed, perplexed. "Something wrong, AJ? Do I got something on my face?"

She recoiled as if struck and looked startled, as if she was stuck in a daze, and had just realized that he had noticed her staring. "No, Big Mac.” She coughed. “I was just lookin’ at...I mean, I just like..." she paused, "...your freckles," she concluded awkwardly, then dived for a glass of water, gulping it down to hide her embarrassment.

Big Macintosh just stared at her at her while she seemed to content to pretend that nothing was ever said. "Well...alright then,” he responded, “Thanks, I 'spose." He could feel his own face glowing red.

Nearly an hour later, their meal finished, the family was sitting in front of the fireplace, listening to it crackle and spark. The flames cast deep shadows over the den. They conversed idly, talking about the past and the future. It was how the four of them typically ended the night, bellies full and delighting in the simple joys of warmth and family. Applebloom was still hopping around the room excitedly as Big Macintosh and Applejack whispered to each other, and Granny Smith's rocking chair creaked in regular intervals. But, like the filly she was, she soon wore herself out and was snuggling in between her siblings, and her stories and excited proclamations soon gave way to a light snoring. As usual, Granny Smith gently shook her awake and guided the now lethargic filly to her bed.

It was just the two of them alone, now. Applejack didn't stir until she noticed her little sister stand up herself. She was pulled out of her content wistfulness and turned to look at him. "Going to bed so soon?"

He tossed her a knowing smile and whispered, "I'll be right back." She watched him until he trotted from the room, staring at his ample rump swaying as he trotted, then turned back to the fire.

She wasn't sure how long she could keep this up. Even now, her entire body was aching just from being so close to him. It was a dull pain of desperation that made it difficult to concentrate on anything else. It was hard to classify it as simple desire; after all, she gave herself relief before. But the urges she felt whenever she was around Big Macintosh were something else entirely. They reached into a much more primal, a much deeper sense of need. Forced to live with a stallion as perfect as Big Macintosh but unable to act on her desires, she felt like she was a cursed mare, forever caged by familial obligations. It was all she could do to ignore the erection at her rear, and to hope that Big Macintosh didn't identify the source of her strange behavior. She's not sure she could live with herself if her trusting big brother ever learned how much she lusted after him and all the things that she wanted to do to him.

She heard him return to the room as she struggled with himself, internally, and tried to think about something else, about anything else. Big Macintosh returned to his place beside her with a plop and set a basket down between the two of them. In it was a variety of bottles, clinking against each other, all musty and smelling of dirt from the cellar. Apple wines and apple ciders and apple whiskeys populated the container, a variety of multicolored labels and signs indicating the variety. All of the bottles were vintage, aged, and unopened.

"Well, Applejack?” Big Macintosh said, with a sly smile as he reached for one of the whiskeys. “I'd say it's time we get around to doin' some real celebratin'."

They hoped they wouldn't wake up Applebloom. Now loud and laughing, the two of them shared stories and tales back and forth just like they shared the contents of the three empty bottles that rolled around under them. Going shot for shot with a mare as robust as Applejack had started to seem like it wasn’t such a good decision on Big Macintosh's part, and he found herself swaying and laughing at nothing. His entire body felt warm and fuzzy. Applejack, laughing himself, had to pull him back down to the floor when he stood up and started dancing to music only he could hear and almost knocked over an endtable. His tales ended halfway through with a fit of irrelevant laughter as often as he actually finished them. Applejack didn't show it, but she was almost as drunk as him. The fire got smaller and smaller as their conversations carried them into the early hours of the morning. They knew, somewhere in the depths of their addled mind, that they'd regret this in the morning, but at the moment, the alcohol was performing its proper duty of inhibiting such high-minded concerns.

They grew more solemn as the night went on, and they, already exhausted from the day’s activities, pulled out a blanket and curled up on the floor, draping it over them. The stories they told turned from joviality and toward fond memories and lost friends, and they scooted closer and closer until Applejack was holding her brother in his hooves, both of them staring at the embers of the fire, warming each other with their bodies.

"I love you, Applejack," Big Macintosh said after a few minutes of silence.

There was no sound but the crickets chirping and the last popping death throes of the fire. She didn't reply, but instead, turned him towards her and kissed him on the lips. He giggled into her mouth, and pushed back. Her breath tasted, unsurprisingly, of sweet apples. She let the kiss go on much longer than normal, and, when he felt her tongue poking into his mouth, he pulled back. This was not the kiss of an affectionate brother.

"Woah, there." He pulled away from her. "Getting awful friendly there, sis," he said with a nervous smile.

She smiled slightly, and moved forward and kissed him again. Maybe it was the liquid courage coursing through his veins or the fact that he hadn't done this with anypony in years, but he didn't pull back, and when he felt her tongue again, he let it into his mouth, and put his in hers. This kiss seemed to last an eternity, with the two of them murmuring and mumbling and moaning into each other's mouths, the flame crackling and popping. Big Macintosh’s eyes were shut tight as he shared a passionate kiss with his sister.

When, at last, he was forced to pull away to take in a deep breath, he could say nothing. He stared at Applejack as the two of them panted, their mouths covered in their conjoined saliva from their sloppy, drunk kissing. "A-Applejack..." he was finally able to articulate.

Almost as if spurred into action by his words, his sister gently pushed him on his back and lumbered over him. It was then, with her towering over him, that he truly realized just how much rugged charisma his sister had. He, normally confident and assured in his own strength, and being notably bigger, still felt like a tiny little colt under her, and the sight of her muscles and bulk rippling as she stood over him, her toned body somehow still almost completely enveloping his, made him quiver. There was something familiar and slightly slick resting on his stomach, and he knew what it was, and what it meant. Gulping, nervous, he could smell her musk, and the heady scent of it was causing him to shiver.

Her face was just centimeters from his and she was silent. There was something about her eyes, some part of her that was always lying just under the surface, something that was only hinted in the past with a casual glance or physical suggestion. Now that part was dominating, and it was obvious what she wanted. There was no mistaking the way she was staring down at him, her eyes sparkling in the faint light. She didn't just see her “little” brother under her anymore.

"A-Applejack..." he said again, unsure what he wanted to tell her.

"I want you," his sibling blurted out suddenly. Like it was the final crack in the dam, the slurry of words surged out of her naturally. "I want you, Mac. I've always wanted you. I don't know how or why but I want you so bad and I can't even think when you're around me. I haven't looked at another stallion in years. Please, sugarcube, I need you more than anything."

He stared back at, him eyes widening. The pounding of her heart was almost audible, and he could feel his own beating harshly in his chest.  She stared down at him as if waiting for his response, as if he could muster any at this point. In the confused and dizzy state Big Macintosh now occupied, the only he could do was whimper. The haze of alcohol made it difficult to cognize anything significant, or to connect errant actions with pesky consequences. From the very few thoughts that made their way clearly into him mind, it was obvious what option him dulled sensibilities were leaning towards. The way she snorted and pawed at the floor with one of her currently seemingly massive forehooves like an animal motivated entirely by bestial needs showed that Applejack could probably smell it. It was a side of his sister he'd never seen, and despite all his recurring dreams that begun in one of a hundred versions of this scenario, it made him frightened.

"W-we can't, AJ," he whispered. He struggled and pushed against her as he wiggled back and forth, sliding out from under her. She instantly relented and backed up, allowing him egress from underneath her body. He'd never been more confused in his life, and a plethora of emotions flooded through him, conflicting and fighting for dominance. Confronting the situation in the only manner he could, with a last, fleeting glance at his sister, who was staring at him, looking possibly more frightened than even him, and an unvoiced apology, he fled from the room.

Applejack stood, silently, for a minute, then collapsed on the blanket, and shoved her head under her hooves.

Big Macintosh whined in anguish when the comfort of sleep fell away to harsh reality. The sun hit him eyes and he cursed Celestia idly for not leaving it lowered for just a few more hours. His head throbbed in pain, yelling at him for the copious consumption he partook in the prior night. He sat up in bed, and and it felt like every nerve of his body was screaming in protest. The room, lit from a high-noon sun, smelled strangely, like stale air mixed with sweat and surprisingly; a mare in heat. He wasn’t sure if AJ left more than saliva on him, or if it was just from memory, but it reminded Big Macintosh of the days when he first discovered the pleasures of flesh, and would spend a day cooped up in his room, rediscovering every single part of his body just to see how it felt.  He was sore and aching as he hopped out of bed, stumbling slightly. Glancing around the plain room for his collar, then gently prodded his recollection in an effort to recall the previous night.  It was almost all a haze, lost to the obfuscation of inebriation, but there was a single event that stood out clearly, stark against the haze.

"Shoot, Applejack," he said to himself, then, suddenly feeling dizzy, leaned against the bedstand, "You brash, dumb pony..." Why'd she have to go and say something like that? Normally, he would have just assumed it was the alcohol talking, but there was something about the way she talked that dissuaded him from that notion. A mare simply overcome from drunk lust wouldn't talk and act like that. He regretted leaving her in the way he did, fleeing like a scared little kitten, but what else could he have done? He wasn't exactly in the right sorts either.  The poor mare was probably tearing himself up about it.

"Stupid...we're siblings!" he mumbled as he tore apart him room, tossing blankets and pillows haphazardly in search of him omnipresent garment. "I'm your brother...we can't be doing things like that...I oughta hit you..." He wondered, for a brief moment, who he was trying to convince.

Defeated in him efforts, he left out a resigned sigh and trotted out him door and down the steps. It became clear that the house was completely empty, and, after drinking his weight in water in desperate attempt to rehydrate herself and grabbing an apple to eat, he discovered a note on the kitchen table.  _Dear Big Macintosh + Applejack_ , it read, in Applebloom's childlike scribbles that was him excuse for handwriting,  _me and granny smith went to town. be back later tonight! love, Applebloom._ At the bottom of the note, his little sister had drawn what appeared to be a bizarre caricature of the family, with a big bright pink heart enveloping all of them.

Smiling at the simple innocence of the note, he set it back down on the table and resumed him search. Expecting to find Applejack still snoring in front of the smoldering fireplace, he instead was surprised to find that somepony had already removed all the bottles they had emptied. All that was left was the crumpled blanket and - aha! - his harness. Letting out a joyous woop, he ran over and, as fast as one could, swung it over his head, finally feeling relieved. While fuzzy, he vaguely recall it somehow slipping off when Applejack had pushed him onto him back the previous night and stood over him like a predator.

They needed to talk. Leaving the room, he wandered throughout the lifeless house. When he passed by a hallway, he caught herself in a mirror, and grimaced. He looked like a wreck. His mane was a tangled and unkempt mess, and spots of dirt covered him body in bizarre patterns, his unshorn fetlocks looked even more unshorn than normal. Him fur was mangled and matted and sticky with spilled wine and sweat. The bags under him eyes told an entire story about the quality of him sleep the prior night. Applejack could wait, right now, he needed a shower.

Applejack stood under the water as it poured down on her. Her eyes were shut, and she was completely motionless. Content to sit in the outdoor shower and let the water attempt to wash away the shame, she made no effort to clean herself. Thoughts and half-formed plans to flee the farm or apologize swept over her mind, but they all had a common thread - her relationship with Big Macintosh had irrevocably changed. She had spent the last two hours like this, and would have been satisfied to spend the next week or so under the water. Unfortunately, that ambition ended whenever she heard the door to the large shower room open and shut. Without turning around, she knew who it was.

"Applejack," she heard her brother say, his voice somewhat relieved. "There you are! I've been looking for you." She heard Big Macintosh's hooves clop against the ground as he walked closer to her. She couldn't say anything to him, shame and embarrassment catching the words in the throat.

"I...I think we need to talk a little bit about what happened last night." She knew that was coming, and quickly abandoned any notions that he'd forgotten her confession or would somehow be content to ignore it.

"I don't think I can stand to see you right now, Big Macintosh," she told him, her voice shaking.

That's when she felt him rub against her, their wet bodies brushing against each other and sending a spark down her back. He spoke, right next to her, whispering directly into her ear. "I want you too, you silly filly," he said, both sensually and mockingly.

In an instant, her misery evaporated. Every part of her body yearned to tackle her brother to the ground and take him right there, but she restrained himself as she felt her erection growing from his simple confession, blood rushing to her family jewel as she felt herself swell up. "W-what do you mean, AJ? What about last night?" She opened her eyes and looked over at her brother, who was blushing and wearing a small smile, the corners of his mouth twitched upwards, obviously nervous.

In response, he leaned forward and kissed her. She was surprised for moment, then allowed herself to fall into it. They mirrored their passionate kiss from the previous night, though this time with more affinity for each other. Without inebriation impeding them, they seemed to naturally know what to do to please each other. The hot water hit their manes and ran down their face as they continued to lock their muzzles together. When Applejack broke the kiss, he expected her to lean her with a shocked, excited look on her face. Instead, to his surprise, she dove for him neck and started nibbling and kissing it. He moaned into her ear as she assaulted him in all the right places.

"S-stop it, AJ..." he said, shuddering, against all his desires.  She gave him one last bite on the side of him neck, then pulled back. Her expression made her confusion unnecessary to voice. "I want to. I really do you. You do too, I reckon." He smiled.

"But we can't! You know we can't. It's just not right. What would Granny think if he found us doin' something like this? We could kiss the farm goodbye! Applebloom and Granny'd have to run the place themselves! How would we explain this to Apple Bloom? Gosh darn it, Applejack, you're my sister."  _My limber, strong, powerful, sexy, endowed, sister..._

He pulled her into a slippery hug and sighed contentedly as her strong forearms wrapped around him. "We just can't," he said, his tone conclusory. "We'll just have to get over this okay? We'll both find someponies else to distract us and forget this ever happened!"

His brother stood, and was silent for a long time after he let her go, as if she was still absorbing all the information. He began washing her as he washed herself, lathering the two of them down with soap and a sponge. Finally, she nodded. It was torture for the workhorse, knowing that the stallion she wanted more than anything in the world wanted her back, but they were both powerless to do anything about it. He was correct, though, as always. Despite how much she longed for it, there was nothing she could do. She thought, maybe, now that he knew the truth, she would be afforded some catharsis, but her desires were simply amplified tenfold. Big Macintosh rubbed down her back, untying her knots and massaging her in her favorite spots, she grunted in pleasure.

"Now turn over so I can wash your stomach, you filthy horse," he said, squeezing out the sponge.

She, after a second of indecision, obeyed, turning over, the water from the shower now splashing on her chest.

Big Macintosh gasped, and exhaled in a sharp whistle. "Gee..." he whispered in awe. His sister was laying on her back, staring up at him, but his eyes didn't meet hers. Instead, he was transfixed by the erection that Applejack had just put on full display, her tail was at the side, and the fact she had her orange pearl unfolded didn’t make it any less obvious. It was almost as long and half as thick as one of his hooves, mottled black and orange. Big Macintosh couldn't help but stare at it, him eyes widening and him jaw feeling like it hit the floor. He thought he was quite big to the average pony, but AJ... apparently, it had been far too long since he had seen her up close, he didn't know she was  _that_ big. Even with his size, he wasn’t sure if she even need to use most of hers to take him in... He finally, after staring at it twitch in between his sisters flanks, blinked and laughed at his own enamoredness. "Wow," he concluded, finally.

"Like anything you see, Appletart?" she mocked, her own nervousness now replaced with elation at her brother's reaction.

He shot her a look, but didn't deny anything as he moved in closer, wetting the sponge and beginning to wash down Applejack's stomach, him hooves shaking the entire time. "Wow," he reiterated, only semi-aware of it. The water dripped and flowed down his body, both of them now absolutely soaked. When his sponge had moved over every inch of her upper half, he started going lower and lower as she watched, barely content to let him make his own pace, especially as he grazed over her mammaries. Finally done at the abdomen, she slid down her firm curves, down to her hindquarters. The sponge brushed up against her cunt, finally, and a moan escaped her lips, unbidden, her hips bucking slightly into the air in desperation, her  marehood revealing it’s prize once more before it folded back. Seemed like his sister had a little problem controlling herself.

"Gosh... I've never seen anypony need it this bad...when's the last time you were with a stallion, Applejack?" She didn't answer and he didn't expect one, but still continued staring at her in awe. Questions and doubts swarmed him mind and him head began feeling, suddenly, very light. He wondered if maybe one time wouldn't be so bad, just to get it out of their system. He shook his head, trying to clear him thoughts, but as soon as he did, the scent of her musk, piercing through the steamy haze of the shower, hit him once again.

"You poor mare...it must hurt so bad, being all pent up like this." Big Macintosh noticed how similar this situation was to one of him dream, and he couldn't help but extrapolating on that with what happened next in them. Him heart started pounding furiously and him body felt like it was impossibly warm. He slowly ran the sponge from the tip of her pussy all the way down to the base, admiring the large, voluptuous lips that framed her meaty package. He dabbed them gently with the warm sponge, wondering what they would feel like in his mouth. Groaning and shifting under his light touch, Applejack made it clear that she was  eager to feel more, bucking into his hooves whenever they hovered over her needy engorgement.

"Woah there, calm down, stud. I didn't know you needed it that badly." He looked up at her with a coy smile, and through the steamy vapors saw clearly the effect that him simple touch had her - she was panting, tongue sticking out and eyes half lidded, her chest heaving up and down. She really hasn't been with another stallion in ages, it seemed like. She nodded in distant agreement with him statement, desperate to comply. He felt a twinge of guilt.  _I shouldn't be teasing her like this..._ he thought.

"Maybe...” he gulped, his desires caught in him throat. It was hard to breathe in the scent of her heat, and ever harder to think..  _This is your sister you're looking at, Mac! Big brothers ain’t supposed to get like this about their little sisters! Snap out of it!_ some distant, increasingly irrelevant part of him consciousness was telling him.

“...I could...get you off with my hooves? Would that make you feel any better?" She grinned and nodded, amazed and supremely pleased that he suggested exactly what she desired of his volition. "'Course it would," he mumbled. "Just once, okay?” he added quickly and sternly. “I'm only gonna do this once because you're in such a sad state right now. Then we're back to bein' regular ol' brother and sister, ya hear?" She was nodding furiously the entire time, bucking her hips to call him attention back to her erection, giving him another wink. Maybe after he did this, she'd be able to get over this little fit she was in and would move on from thinking about rutting her own older brother. He tried to ignore how excited he was getting from imagining her pushing him over the kitchen table and doing just that.

Applejack scooted up a little for a better view, and stared down in delight as her big brother, with a mischievous grin, tossed the sponge aside and gripped her nethers with both hooves. It was pulsing under his grip, throbbing in pleasure just from his touch. His hooves were calloused and rough from all the work he subjected them to, but Applejack didn't think about complaining for even a second. Instead, she stared in lustful awe at a scene that only existed in fantasies a mere week ago - her big brother, stunned and staring at her hard, now fully unfolded clit, biting his lip as he ran him hooves in exploration over her entire length, idly circling around the edges. For all her desire, the pair of hooves now running up and down her were as smooth as velvet. She rewarded him efforts with a moan and pushed himself closer to him, her soaked rump colliding with him.

"Not so fast... sis..." he said, but this time it was distant and unimpassioned, the whole of him attention on the object in front of him. "Darn, you're so big," he mumbled, amid a variety of inane articulations. The entire room soon began to reek of aroused mare, with a hint of stallion as well and Applejack's mind was swimming in his scent, a smell that she had only stolen tantalizing whiffs of in the past. She saw him grinding him rump subconsciously, as desperate for release as she was.

She wasn't going to last long. Not after so long, so many lonely nights with only her omnipresent and now fulfilled desires to keep her company. Big Macintosh continued to jerk her off with one hoof, quickly stroking the stiff nub with his frog as he brought another one higher and began to knead her mammaries gently. "So full..." he mumbled to himself more than her. "I bet you're going to cum so hard, aren't you? My poor lil’ sister..." He leaned in closer, his face now tantalizing centimeters from her cunt. "I'm going to have a little taste, okay? Just one, okay?" She nodded and grunted an affirmative before he even finished his sentence. He lifted her hindquarters into the air to get a better hold of her.

"Just one," he repeated with a satisfied grin, and re-position herself so he was laying on him stomach, him rump swaying in the air behind him. Leaning in close, he nuzzled his snout in between her soaked, throbbing erection and her lips, and breathed in deep, now closer than ever to the musk that had been torturing his primal desires for all this time. He shuddered as he exhaled, then, able to resist no longer, took his taste. And he made it count. Closing him eyes, he began at her sides, putting them in his mouth one at a time and sucking on them gently. He licked all around her mound, covering it in his saliva, mixing it with her lubricant and then started a slow journey upwards, making his tongue as flat and wide as he could to cover as much of his sister's cunt as he could. He could hear Applejack grunt and moan as he gingerly ran his tongue up her length with as little haste as he could, savoring the taste of her. He caught the taste of something sweet on his tongue that was distinguishable from the water, and juices that covered her erection - Applejack's cunt was now positively drooling some of the yellowish pre like the horny, desperate mare in heat she was. He lapped it all up until he reached her clit. His taste stretched up her length so that he was now fully leaning into her mound, his wet muzzle and hooves rubbing against the part of her marehood that his tongue left behind. He finally opened his eyes to look at her over her stomach. Staring back him was an amazing, speechless Applejack, unashamed to let out groans as she pistoned under him, needing release. "I'm close, sugarcube..." she whispered. Somehow, hearing those word made him even more aroused. He almost couldn't bear it, and the temptation to just crawl up her the last distance and lower himself  into her depths and ride her until she came was nearly irresistible. He needed to get her off before he gave into it. He pushed her further back, almost having her curled up by now, but he was able to gaze down into her eyes.

"Well, don't hold back now, sis..." he begged, grinding his entire wet muzzle against her massive cunt. The lubricant smeared all over his wet fur as he grinded her massive pussy with his face. His lower lips were teased by the edges of it, and he whimpered from the teasing stimulation. "Cum for me, Applejack. Cum for your big brother...."

She couldn't resist the order. Closing her eyes and throwing her head back as she lifted her hips into the air, she let out a long, restrained grunt as weeks worth of temptations and desires shot from the depths of her cunt, her walls constricting as load after load shot out of her. Big Macintosh could feel it twitching against his cheek as he used his snout to rub her throbbing button, and could only think about how much he'd rather feel it twitching around him. Most of the load landed on her stomach or her chin as it spurted out in a arc into the air, but some splattered on Big Macintosh. It lasted for what seemed like an eternity, and Big Macintosh never stopped rubbing what parts of his body he could to hers, nor grinding his muzzle against her spasming cunt until the very last drop was coaxed from it. She felt empty and exhausted, and gasping for breath, decided at once that she had never felt more satisfied. She lifted her head up from the wet floor with a grunt, dizzy from the most intense orgasm she'd ever had and from the scent of her own cum which now covered her face, and stared at Big Macintosh. Her seed dripped from his chin until he wiped it away with his hoof, and he shot her a pleased smile. "You're welcome!" he said, excitedly. "I'd never seen a mare cum that much."

She bumbled out frantic thank yous as Big Macintosh climbed off of her sweaty and panting body, her flank slumping back to the ground. "Yeah, yeah," he responded, dismissively. "Just don't get used to it, now, it was just a one time thing, remember? I don't want you crawlin' all over me like last night!" He shook his head, pretending to be disgusted. "Now, let's get you cleaned up again, sis’."

It wasn't just a one time thing, and she certainly got used to it. It wasn't difficult to convince Big Macintosh to touch her whenever she felt she needed it, and it became increasingly easier each time. After a week, it was routine. They would wait until Granny Smith and Apple Bloom were asleep, then would congregate in the den. They'd nuzzle against each other for a while, just talking, as if pretending they were still normal brother and sister, but soon enough, one of them would escalate the situation and they would lock muzzles, hooves exploring each other's bodies. It was always end with her on her back,  Big Macintosh encouraging her lustily, as he jerked and rubbed her off with his hooves, the scent of his own excitement filling the room in an intoxicating aroma, not as strong as hers, but she felt it well. They worried, the first night, that their family would find them, but after that the risk only served to multiply their excitement. After Applejack complained about always ending the night covered in her own cum, or having painted the floor, they decided that she would begin to whisper to him, with a desperate and inarticulate confession, when she was coming, and he would lock him lips around the tip of her cunt. Feeling his sister's juices splatter against the back of his throat and swallowing it all down was difficult, at first, but like the ease of their relationship in general, became easier the more times they did it. Eventually, it was sliding into his stomach with an ease that was almost too casual, even her more thicker, rich heat loads went down smoothly. The taboo of it all, first serving to dissuade them, soon became a depraved appeal whenever they realized that they weren't going to supernaturally punished for violating the laws of nature.

However, when Applejack suggested that she might, one of these nights, return the favor, or perhaps engage in something new and daring, he shot her a cross look, his eyes daggers. "No, Applejack," he reproached, not a little angry. "You're lucky I'm doin' this for you! There's nothing more. I think you should find a stallion sometime soon if you wanna do stuff like that. I can't keep taking care of you like this forever." She didn't ask a second time, not wanting to push the subject and ruin whatever this was they had going between them.

"'Sides," he added after a minute, almost as if in afterthought. "I'm your brother, remember?"

As if she could forget.

As time passed, what first served as a relief for the mare became a torturing experiment in self control. If she had a hard time resisting thoughts of her brother before, now it was no longer even possible. Everything he did to her, every time he bit his lip to stifle a moan as he rubbed his body against her aching cunt, every time he smacked his lips, belly full, after they were done, confirmed absolutely that which she had wholly expected was the case - that he was all she wanted in life.

Big Macintosh, for him part, faced a struggle almost as compelling. The moral leprosy he experienced when indulging in desires left the foundations of him opposition to the idea rotting and decaying more and more each time. He couldn’t help doubt his willpower if she asked him one more time, maybe a bit more forcefully. But she didn’t, and he was able to reinforce his failing faith in social mores by iterating to himself that he hadn’t violated them as long as he didn’t take it a step further. After all, it’s not like they were actually having  _sex._ While he was down on his belly, laying between his sister’s hind legs massaging and milking her pussy, any argument the rational side of him mind could muster against going further seemed trite. When the world was reduced to contain his tongue, his hooves and her swollen need, all of the concerns of acting civilized or proper were minimized into irrelevancy. It was hard to argue with the how much delight it brought the both of them. How could something that felt so good be wrong?

They loved each other, right? Big Macintosh felt more passion and connection with his sister than he ever had with any mare in the past, and, he could confirm near doubtlessly, any mare he would ever meet in the future. Hadn’t he been told his entire life to follow him heart? If him heart fluttered at the sight of her and if he came out of his daydreams about her with his heart racing excitedly at all the thoughts his idle mind had conjured, is that what they were talking about? Was there anything really so wrong about taking their relationship to some higher, physical stage? Everything that he’d been taught his life told him yes, every ache of desire and yearning in him body told him no.

“Come on, you want it, don’t you?” Big Macintosh whispered to the drunk mare, shaking his rump at her as he walked by her. She grinned, her eyes unfocused from inebriation, and leapt clumsily from the couch.

“How ‘bout right here, hun? No need for a soft bed,” said the mare, whose named Big Macintosh had already forgotten.

“I like the way you think, my mare.” He turned around and walked back to her. With only a pale lantern on the opposite wall, her living room was dark enough that he couldn’t even see what the stranger looked like, not that it mattered. The point of his nocturnal trip into the Ponyville Tavern wasn’t to find a mare to stare at all night behind coy smiles and bright eyes. He’d spent barely an hour in the bar before grabbing the first mare who looked at him with a smile. Big Macintosh wasn’t a particularly promiscuous pony, but he was aware of the therapeutic effects of a good old fashioned roll in the hay. Particularly of late, the urge had intensified. There was no desire to looking to form a lasting relationship with a beautiful pony, here. So long as she knew where all the parts went and how they worked, he’d be satisfied with his selection.

“You know how to work that thing, don’t ya?” he said, rolling over in front of her, ending up on his back. In a set of movements Big Macintosh hadn’t employed in a long time, his back went to the floor and him legs was parted to each side in the air, and a solid, single flick of his tail brushed any obstacle the young filly might have encountered out of the way.

“‘Course I do!” the filly replied, slightly defensively. “Just you wait and see.” She clambered on top of him, forcing Big Macintosh to let out a little umph whenever her hooves landed on his chest. Her pussy was already engorged and he could feel it throbbing warmly against his shaft with it’s folds, teasingly. He grinded his tip against her.

“Fuck, you’re  _stiff_.” observed the filly, “You want this bad, don’t you?” She started slowly gyrating back and forth, coaxing her cunt to apply it’s juices on his shaft, she was notably aroused, judging by her large swelling, and the fact her lubricant this point had begun to leak down her legs. “I wanna hear you say it,” she gasped, obviously pleased at herself for having such a horny stallion in front of her.  “Tell me how bad you need this.”

“Oh baby, so bad. Screw me hard, right now,” Big Macintosh responded agreeably, moving in time with her slow thrusts, their two bodies one tantalizing second away from being coupled yet already going through the motions.  _Just slide me inside already, you dolt._

“A polite colt would say please, but I guess I know what to do with rude colts,” she responded. Big Macintosh felt a hoof against one of his cheeks, pushing his face deeper into the wool carpet.

“Not so rough now, missy. ‘Least, not right away.”

She chuckled and pulled back, lining up her hole with his shaft. “Don’t worry, babe. I know how to treat a stallion like he deserves.” She pushed her package down around him with deliberate leisure, spreading her wet lips around his stiff member as she forced him to feel, slowly, each inch slid him inside. He squirmed and writhed under her as she wrapped around him in a way that he had needed for a very long time.

He murmured in satisfaction as she continued to push him into herself.  _She’s bigger than I thought._ Big Macintosh mused, to his delight.  _Still not as big as AJ, though, I reckon._  He started drawing in short rapid breaths, as he felt the fullness and satisfaction his body had been aching after. They both let out a satisfied sigh when their hips smacked together, her pride finally properly having nestled him deep inside.

“Limper than I thought you’d be, slut,” she grunted as she began to withdraw from him, slowly, deliberately. If it was any other day, such a statement would have the mare on her back with a fresh bruise developing on her face, but today Big Macintosh’s protest of anger turned into a moan of lust before it reached his lips. His hooves scraped against the carpet as he scampered to sitting slightly upwards slowly in an effort to keep the mare around him.

“Fuck, you’re needy,” the filly said, complaining but not really, as she gave up on pulling herself off and contented to fucking him with short, rapid thrusts that left no patience or romanticism in act. Big Macintosh’s firm abdomen became a somewhat soft pillow that she collided with over and over, sending ripples throughout his body. As her cunt coiled on an off him, it was coating him in the warm, tingling sensation of arousal, and it leaked messily down his coat and onto the floor.

Big Macintosh didn’t say anything. This was what he wanted, and the way his hips pushed back with each time his mate pushed against him was a blatant display of his own enjoyment. But there was something decidedly  _lacking._ Something that didn’t make the scenario click, something that didn’t quite make this as enjoyable as him previous experiences. Thinking, in him lust-dominated mind, he had figured it out, he managed to articulate it. “Harder,” he commanded the filly forcefully.

She said nothing, her own commentary fallen to the wayside in favor of bestial groaning, but she made evident her understanding when Big Macintosh felt her hooves grip his sides and her cunt slam onto him with more force than before, causing him to yelp. Him knees gave out and he collapsed back to the floor, but the  filly never stopped fucking him, pistoning herself in and out around him, clenching her strong muscles tighter, their hips slamming in animalistic abandon.

“Yes...” Big Macintosh moaned, this time a natural utterance than anything said for the benefit of him partner. “Celestia, yes, fuck me...” It had been a long time since he had needed it this badly and although the filly was trying her hardest to satisfy him, even with her sweaty body hovering over him, her ample length plunging down around him with the ferocity he demanded of his partners. Yet, there was still that  _something_  missing.

“Mmm, yeah, harder,” he whispered into the carpet. “Fuck me harder, Applejack.”

“W-what?” the filly coughed out, barely slowing her frantic pace.

Big Macintosh’s eyes shot open when he realized what he had said. In a panic, he rolled out from underneath the mare, leaving her thrusting the air for a second in a mindless passion before stumbling to the side and softly tripping onto her side, her hard, vigorously winking marehood fully visible. Coming out from what looked like the throes of a near-orgasm, her face was contorted in rage as she glared over at him. “What the fuck!?” she bellowed at him. “What the fuck is your problem?!”

Big Macintosh could still feel himself nonconsciously twitching under his stomach, his needs left unsatisfied and his body as desperate as his partner’s. “S-sorry...” he stammered, then, as quick as he could, got up on his hooves and ran for the door, swinging him discarded harness around his neck as he fled into the chilly night without a glance back.

“Never shoulda left the farm,” Big Macintosh grumbled to himself as Ponyville gave way to the countryside and the rolling hills juxtaposed between it and Sweet Apple Acres emerged. The cold autumn air whispered against his coat lightly, but him body felt like it was on fire. He could feel acutely the dampness on his rump and legs... not to mention his still partially erect cock. In all respects, his mission tonight was unsuccessful - he was still unbearably aroused, and Applejack still occupied his mind completely.

The march home did nothing to ease him wandering mind. For a brief second, he flit the idea of retreating back to Ponyville and seeing if the mare wanted to try again, but, even if she agreed, he wasn’t sure a rough fuck that left him a quivering mess of a properly pleasured pony would provide him with catharsis for his true, perennial desires. The walk home was long, stressful, and cold and he arrived at the homestead miserable - a far cry from how had been expecting to have spent the new few hours.

Winona jumped all over him the second he got in the door, but otherwise it appeared that the house was dormant. With a sigh, he patted him dog lightly on the head, then wandered upstairs, wanting nothing more than to go to bed, and, after the inevitable dreams he was going to have in the mood he was in tonight, wake up with a fresh start. He had to be up early in the morning after all - there was still a plethora of tasks that needed accomplished before winter. A few hours ago it hadn’t mattered, as he had been expecting to have spent the night curled up in some stranger’s bed, far from him Granny’s jurisdiction, but now that he was home he was certain that a rude, morning awaking was in store.

He paused as he passed by Applejack’s room, while Winona continued bouncing forward towards Big Macintosh’s bed.. Her door was open slightly, and he wondered if she was still awake. Now that he was indoors without the breeze to carry it away, the smell of his own, along with that mares arousal was still rather acute, and she might already smell it if she was awake. The perverse thought brought a smile to the otherwise dejected pony, and, with a gentle push, her door creaked open. Even in the pale light filtering past him into her room, he could see her laying on her back under the covers of her bed, her member clearly outlined under the light fabric. He bit his lip, trying to force down any errant utterances, but quickly surrendered to him desires.

“Applejack...you awake?” he whispered into the silent room, inching him way past the threshold. When there was no response, he spoke again, slightly louder. “Little sis’?”

A loud snore sounded in response. He closed his eyes, simultaneously relieved and disappointed, and slid the door shut. What would he have done if she had been awake, and sat up in her bed, asking his name into the darkness and seeing only the shaking outline of his body, silhouetted in the doorway? Would he have, without a word, creeped into the room and clicked the door shut behind him, ignoring completely her quiet inquiries and intending to answer any of her questions wordlessly in a matter of seconds? Would he have waltzed up to the bed, social mores becoming more and more irrelevant with each step him hungering body got closer to the only thing he was convinced could satisfy his needs? Would he have crawled on top of her, dragging his partially floppy sex against her body, pausing only to grind it against her swelling cunt? Would he have, realizing the need for silence with Applebloom only a thin wooden wall away, stifled Applejack’s groan of pleasure right there by shoving his tongue into her mouth? Would he have been so overcome with passion that he would be run his tongue all over her body, kissing her neck and chest as he grinded against her pride, the two parts longing to be joined and separated from each other now only by the thinnest of materials, moral concerns no longer inhibiting either of them? Would he have slipped under the blankets, still running his lips over her neck, and slowly inched his way down her body, until her unfolded and twitching head, already leaking lubricant all over her mound, was rubbing against his tip? Would she answer his last minute hesitation by pushing upwards and into him, causing him to abandon all pretenses of them having anything other than a night long rut? She would get to see him wince and whinny quietly as he slowly pushed himself down, bit by bit of her cunt enveloping him and satisfying him like no other mare ever has, like no other mare ever could? He would let out an exhausted but contented sigh, finally full? After she was embedded folds deep around him, stare into each other eyes in pale moonlight, and begin quietly thrusting, never breaking eye contact, the sound of the bedsprings creaking repeatedly under the weight of the mating siblings being the sound that celebrated the complete abrogation of proper familial conduct, augmented only by the hushed moans of the pair of lovers, and he would collapsed onto her as he came sobbing joyously and soaking her coat with him tears and a second later with a grunt that was perhaps too loud she would join him at the heights of orgasm and cum still embedded tightly around him, clamping down with her strong muscles on his trembling shaft, spurting load after load against him and filling up around his cock, and maybe against or even into his sheath with an incredible warmth and -

Applejack snored again, the sound calling him back to reality. Big Macintosh shook his head, as if somehow the physical action of which would cause all these filthy thoughts to come tumbling out of his ears and forever banish them from his consciousness. He didn’t know how long he had been standing outside her shut door, but a fresh coat of liquid had covered his tip and pre was dripping quietly onto the floor. He cursed, and, after considering for a second raising his hindlegs and bucking down the door separating him from his sister, he stumbled off and into bed, completely unsatisfied and reeking mostly of aroused stallion.

He fell asleep after tossing in his bed for an hour, and he dreamt of his sister.

“Applejack, get your mind outta the gutter!” Big Macintosh yelled at her through a mouthful of iron. Sure enough, Granny Smith had forced the two ponies from their beds a minute before sun rose and they've been kept busy all day.. From gathering leaves to chopping down dead trees to flattening the pathways, they've been at one task or another in preparation of the coming season. The pegasus reported first snow even sooner than usual, so haste was essential. Despite that, this was not the first time that her brother had to pull her from the depths of her own thoughts. She was clammy with need from being around him all day.

“Sorry about that, Mac...” she groaned, picking herself from the hay up from where she had been sitting. The two of them were in the small barn that stood off for their household now, and, having cleaned up what they could, were now focused on the repairing the damaged wall. Autumn had not been good to the aging building. It was decades old, built by strange ponies long before Big Macintosh and Applejack had been alive. The rotting foundation had gone far too long without maintenance, and was now threatening collapse. New holes appeared in every direction they looked. It was almost to the point where it would have been more practical to simply knock it down and reconstruct a new building, but only almost. Illumination was scant and provided only by the sunlight that filtered through the holes in the wall, and the entire building smelled of fresh hay and cut wood. There was another faintly spicy smell, something much more interesting to the virile mare. Big Macintosh balanced precariously on a ladder with a mouthful of nails and a hammer. His sister reached up and handed him another board and he began pounding it into the wall. With the awkward way he swayed back and forth on the ladder, it was all Applejack could do to pace around him worriedly. She hadn’t been much help repairing the barn at all, and Big Macintosh had done almost all the work himself.

“There,” he said positively, and spit the excess nails to the ground. After giving the board a swift kick to ensure stability, he leapt from the tall ladder and landed gracefully on a tuft of hay. “Are you gonna do any work today, sis’, or we’re just plannin’ on spendin’ it ogling me?”

“Sorry, Mac...” she said again, “You just look great today.”

“Great?” he chuckled, then looked himself up and down. His mane was covered in dirt and bits of hay and grass and his coat was matted with sweat. He hadn’t even had the time to wash himself off since the incident the prior night. “I look like I just got in a fight with a bull and lost.”

“Yeah,” she agreed distantly, her gaze and mind defocused. “You look almost good enough to eat.” He frowned disapprovingly as her lustful stare moved up and down his body repeatedly, drinking in his form.

“Yeah, in your dreams, playgirl,” he responded with a chuckle, then brushed his tail across her face teasingly.

He was surprised at the effect it had on her, and when she reacted it caused him to spin around and back up a few paces. As soon as the tail brushed against her face, her reaction was not unlike the olfactory equivalent of getting hit with a truck.. Her eyes grew wide and she blinked a few times rapidly, stunned. Her slit, which, up until this point, had been only semi-engorged from the sight of Big Macintosh, throbbed and grew to its full, massive size and he saw a dollop of lube begin to leak down it’s newly unfolded head. Her breathing became audibly rushed and she snorted violently, pawing the ground like a bull getting ready to charge. “You smell mighty fine, too, Mac,” she growled, her voice lower than normal as if the part of her vocalizing this was some deeper, more primal part of her consciousness.

He immediately knew why she had this reaction, and internally cursed himself for not realizing what he must smell like after stewing in his own juices all night under hot covers, or the effect that would have on Applejack. Immediately, realizing that there was going to be no detente from this situation, he moved to placate her.

“Well, now, get on your back and I’ll take care of you. Just one time, today, okay? We gotta get back to work.” He took a nervous glance at the door, seeing it bolted shut and hearing nothing outside. Applebloom and her friends took all the barn animals in another ill-fated attempt to be Cutie Mark Crusader Animal Wranglers and could be back any minute, but at the state him sister was in he saw little option but get her off as soon as possible. To that end, he took a step towards her and threw her hat to the side.

“N-no, Mac,” She said, and he stopped. “Can...can I just look at you?”

“Look at me? I’d wager you’ve seen enough of me to make you happy. You’ve been ruttin’ me with your eyes all day.”

“No, Macintosh,” she waved a hoof dismissively. “I mean, turn around ‘nd bend over...I want you to display yourself for me sugarcube.”

Immediately, embarrassment flooded his face in a bright red rush.  It was absurd, he knew, after all they had done already to feel like it was a monumental and irretractable event in their relationship for her to look at him with desire, but there was something about it that was different. No longer could he rationalize away the taboo by pretending that  she was fantasizing anything but him. He couldn’t imagine, like he had before, that she was just a desperate and pent-up mare and he was just an anonymous set of lips and hooves for her to gratify herself on. His body was what she lusted after, nothing else.

But really, what was so wrong with this? She’d seen plenty of him all her life, and whether he showed himself to her tonight or not there was little question that he’d occupy her mind while she pleasured herself later. Might as well calm her down now.

“W-well, alright, lil’ sister..” he said, turning around. “‘Spose your nice ol’ brother can let you stare at his hindquarters when you get a little hot and bothered. Don’t see anything wrong with that...”

Planting his hooves firmly in the dirt, he lowered his head to the ground. The sunlight filtered through a hole in the roof of the barn just right, illuminating his backside and giving his perfect rump the spotlight it deserved. He kept his straw-colored tail attempting  to cover most of it, swishing it back and forth to offer her tantalizing flash before finally resting it over one of his haunches and giving his sister a full view. The results were immediate - he could already hear her hoof slapping against her thick folds, and he swear he even heard a little squelch as she flexed her family jewel, and the inevitable grunts of pleasure that she emitted.

“Y-ya...ya like that, Applejack?” he said, experimentally, “You like staring at your brother while you get off? You naughty pony...” he whimpered as he finished, his own words being his own repressed desires vocalized and cutting straight to his core.

The groan that Applejack answered him with lit a fire in Big Macintosh’s stomach, inflaming him with delight and passion. He could feel himself getting hard and he that all his dirty thoughts were causing him to twitch at his sister, his private parts sticking out and dangling below, betraying him to her and telling her what he truly wanted her to do.

That’s what he knew she was thinking about right now. How could there be any ambiguity in her desires now? She was thinking about fucking her big brother while her aching cunt winked in and out, causing extra much lubricant to dribble onto the hay. Big Macintosh couldn’t help but feel empowered that he’d caused this lust in his own sibling. Even though Applejack was desired enough that could probably have any stallion in town that she wanted, she was spending her time in a rotting barn touching herself to his ample rump.

And what a rump it was. Despite all the labor he performed out of necessity on the farm, his hindquarters had never really acclimated itself to the exercise - ever since he was a little colt, it had remained plump, perky, and curvaceous. All of his past flings had commented on it, and more than one of them was satisfied to whittle away the hours doing nothing more than rubbing it, pushing their hooves into the soft, pliant muscle like it was putty in their hooves, squeezing and kissing it. The silly fascination always amused the farmpony, especially for mares  to have, but he was content to let them all indulge in their desires. Applejack appeared no different from them in her desire for him, save for perhaps reveling in it with even more enthusiasm.

“You like my rump, Applejack?” he said, teasingly, as the rhythmic sounds of her slapping and the gasping, involuntary articulations of her lust echoed through the barn. “I can hear that you do. I know you wanna engulf it around me...but we can’t, Applejack. I’m your brother, and here you are thinking about ruttin’ me silly when we should be working. Shame on you.” The words were perhaps similar to ones he uttered to her a month ago, or a week ago, but while then they were delivered with frowning disapproval and a severe tone of admonishment, now they were accompanied only by a smirk and a flirtatious glance. He was having far too much fun teasing her, debasing and delighting herself in taboos he took seriously just a season ago. No mare had ever looked at Big Macintosh with the kind of intense desire that Applejack was now, and he could hear her pawing the ground and whinnying like a needy animal behind him. He stuck him rump even higher in the air and angled himself to show his privates, his pre, while barely visible, glistened like honey in the sunlight, and continued talking to her, encouraging her, teasing her. “That’s right, “big” sis. You don’t have to sneak around behind trees and stare at me from a distance anymore. You don’t have to touch yourself in the corner of your room ‘so long as I’m around. All you gotta do is ask, and I’ll spin around or roll over and part my tail up just for you, pretty as you please.”

A large, wet tongue dragging across his sack broke his teasing into a shuddering gasp. Intense pleasure surged through him and stifled any attempts at protest that he might have voiced. Enraptured by him own dialog, Applejack had managed to sneak up behind him and was now running tongue and muzzle up and down his rump, reaching underneath his rear, pushing his testicles aside to give lap at the base of his sex.

“A-Applejack!” he’d managed to gasp after accomplishing nothing but moaning into the dirt for almost a minute, “What are you doing?! You said you only wanted to look!”

“You taste so good, Mac,” she groaned, barely able to pull himself away from him long enough to enunciate that simple point.

Any question he had that as to the appropriateness of this action was only half-formed and mildly concerning by the time they were all exiled, forever pushed from him mind from the crashing waves of pleasure each time she ran her tongue over him. A great and innumerate need that had accumulated over days forced protest out of reach of him grasping willpower almost immediately.  “Oh, Celestia,” he said to the ground as he pushed his rump against her, pressing his balls against her muzzle, much like she’d push her folds against his when he went deep for her, parting his legs, straining every muscle of his hindlegs in order to give Applejack ever greater access to him.

“ _Fuck..._ ” he told her, “fuck, work me over, Applejack.” She was only too happy to obey and plunged her tongue as far along his sex as she could reach, any higher thought process long evacuated in favor of lust.

“I love it when you talk dirty, Mac,” she said quickly, before diving right back down.

“Go down on your big fucking brother, you remarkable fucking stud,” he continued to babble, grinding his sagging sack against her head. It had been ages since he had been this aroused, and he wouldn’t care if Celestia and Granny Smith themselves walked into the barn, he wasn’t going to make Applejack stop any time soon.

Unfortunately, she pulled back of her volition. Big Macintosh whined in desperation and started waving him rump back and forth, his shaft flopping feebly beneath him, needing for it to be touched. Before he could vocalize him complaints, something firm but forceful pressed against his flanks, and before he could fully comprehend it, he was on his back. A set of two, robust hooves landed atop his chest with a pair of loud smacks, and he felt the full weight of his sister’s body on him.

The wind was knocked out of him for a brief second. “N-no, Applejack,” he said, barely a whisper.

“Come on, sugarcube...you want it...I know you want it,” She started moving back and forth, rubbing her swollen, moist lips on the base of his penis, her throbbing cunt causing him to twitch as it brushed against him and their wetness intermingling. Both of them ached and pulsed for each other like it was the most natural thing in the world, like these were two objects that were meant to be conjoined.

“Just tell me I can and I’ll rut you for as long as you want...we can do it all day, if you want...” she grinded against him and he had already collapsed into submissiveness under her, moving his body in time with her.

She was so strong, so feminine. Every single primal synapse of his mind had lit of up and nearly consumed him. They were telling him that this was right; that this was proper. That he simply had to whimper, keep his head on the ground and his rump in the air, and allow himself to be taken by this mare that had clearly claimed and deserved him. That this mare on top of him had just what he needed to make him happy and to make that awful longing deep within him stop.

The wind whistled through the holes in wall as the two pony silently rubbed their bodies together, hanging on a moral precipice. Applejack was right - he did want this. He wanted this more than anything he could ever remember wanting anything in the past. It wouldn’t just make him happy at this point to drag Applejack into the middle of the woods and fuck her until neither of them could walk straight - rather, it felt like it was the only thing that could make him happy at this point. He was so strong and always in control - but, under the mass of his sister, his limbs trembled in anticipation and trepidation. When Applejack pulled back and lined her cunt up with his shaft, pushing so the lips were just barely parted and he could feel her winking head against his, as she  began to push him inside, she leaned her head down next to his, nibbling on his ears and neck.

“Tell me I can, Mac,” she panted into his ear after a minute, her hot breath causing it to twitch.

Big Macintosh wanted nothing more than to lean back, to let her sheathe herself on his stallionhood, down to his base with the tunnel that had been the object of his dreams and desires. Without it, he felt numb and indescribably empty. Still, he once again found the reinforcement to muster an argument.

“I can’t,” he said, pleadingly.

“You want it more than me,” him brother insisted, “I could hear it, I can taste it. Come on, brother...jus’ let this happen. We ain’t gotta tell no one, ain’t no one gonna find out.”

“We can’t...” he said again, always the excuse, and crawled out from under her. Applejack, ever gentle despite the devastating, bestial desire that was screaming at her to do what needed to be done to this fertile, horny stallion, let him go. She sat on the ground, dejected.

“I...I can get you off with my mouth, though...” he said, brushing the hay out of his hair nervously, his rump still tingling with the anticipation of being filled.

Applejack paused for a second, then, before her brother could even stand up, she leaped atop of him and pulled his need towards her, collapsing backwards onto him, their bodies ran across each other. Now, with the object of her desires back in front on her face, and dripping heavily down on nose, she stuck her snout back against her brothers tip, burying her face in his rapidly flaring rod.

He came almost immediately, starting to cry out her name but managing only a syllable before it became orgasmic babbles. Big Macintosh was the messiest stallion she’d ever been with, and warm guycum coated her face and only incensed her to resume licking, and stroking him over with even more fervor. The determination within her built to have this stallion nothing more than shivering, tingling mess before the sun set.

Big Macintosh, him body shaking in carnal satisfaction, returned the favor after a moment, coating her cunt in his saliva before he stuck that firm, swollen nub in his mouth, top of his muzzle inside her immense depths, his lower crossing the pelvis, near her mammaries, his jaw creaking from the massive size of it. He wasn’t he how much he could fit into him but Applejack was insatiable, and her cunny was so delicious that he didn’t complain as her hips bucked, causing centimeters of it slide into his mouth, he’d never taken her this deep before.

“Mac, I’m gonna...” she said, after her clit was embedded down at the tip of his throat. Tears were rolling down his eyes, and the orgasm he was now writhing under had to be the fifth one today. She pulled him out of her trembling cunt and pushed his gasping body gently to the floor, and his only response, as she stood back up onto her wobbly legs, was to dive back under her tail and mouth as much of her pussy as possible.

“Mac, stop...I’m gonna cum...” she said, still concerned that he didn’t want her cum inside of him. All of his actions spoke to the contrary, as she could hear his lusty moans as he deep throated her clit again. He braced himself against in the ground as she started pushing back in time with him. Her inhibitions fell away and she started pushing rougher and deeper as she realized that Big Macintosh, tough large pony that he was, couldn’t just merely handle being treated like this - it’s how he wanted it.

Big Macintosh, deep in his mind and gagging on clit, felt dirty, powerless and weak. He felt like a submissive slutty little school colt who couldn’t help but milk the first hard cunt he saw, even if it was attached to his sister. He had surrendered, not just to his overpowering sister, but to his own desires that swirled like miasma in the depths of him mind that had began suffocating and obfuscating reason. The way him sister fucked his face and stretched him jaw until it ached hurt so perfectly. The feelings were new to the normally pragmatic pony, and he couldn’t get enough of them. Suffering another orgasm at the thought of his throat and muzzle being used as a fucktoy by his endowed, well hung sister, he wasn’t even entirely sure if even any of the princesses rivalled her size. The mere thought of his little sister being bigger than a princess caused him to double his efforts to get her to the same peak of pleasure.

She didn’t last long. She grabbed Big Macintosh’s neck with her strong tail for leverage and began roughly fucking her brother's face just like it was any stallion’s abdomen and, after a final thrust and groan of immense satisfaction, quivered, and felt her walls contract and begin shooting her load into his stomach. She was still splattering her cum against Mac’s throat as she pulled out, and when her orange pearl was finally released from the confines of his mouth another spurt or two shot out and splattered on him freckled face in thick, gooey strands as her large magnificent, mottled button gave a long, final quiver before it folded back inside. Big Macintosh coughed and spurted, a wave of gunk spilling from his mouth and onto the floor after she pulled out, but he managed a weak smile in her direction to alleviate any of her concerns.

“All this...” he coughed, his sister’s liquid affection dripping from his mouth, “just for me?”

Applejack looked over her shoulder, smiled and opened her mouth to reply when a familiar set of voices echoed from somewhere outside, followed by a chorus of braying animal sounds. Applebloom and her friends were nearing the barn, their childlike giggles serving as evidence of their proximity. The siblings glanced at each other for a single, terrifying second. Applejack rushed to the door while Big Macintosh looked around frantically for something to wipe his coated face AJ so generously decorated with sisterly love, on.

With the entire family gathered around the decaying barn an hour later, they soon realized it was a lost cause. Even in the fading sunlight, every inspection beyond the cursory revealed yet another flaw and yet another problem that needed repair, or another reason why the building was inherently structurally unsound. They immediately regretted any work they had put into maintaining it that day.

“Aw, horseapples,” muttered Big Macintosh, “Guess the animals are sleepin’ inside tonight.”  He waltzed over to the side of the decaying wall and spun around. With a swift kick to the base of the building, the entire structure wobbled for one precarious second, then proved in fragility in an explosion of dust as it collapsed to the ground. Despite the frustration for the wasted effort, he however felt a slight relief that any evidence of their prior escapades were even more thoroughly buried.

Applebloom and Granny Smith were already hoarding the animal into their home as the siblings watch the dust settle on the ruins of the old farm, their efforts at maintaining it forlorn.

“Ah, well!” Big Macintosh, recovered, announced heartily, “You an’ me will just build a new one together!” He threw him forelimbs around his sister and pulled her into a hug. They stood there, together, for a few minutes longer before trotting back inside.

Winter fell hard in and fast on the family in a series of rapid blizzards. One day, the leaves they intended to rake were covered in a fresh blanket of snow and their constructions abandoned, retreating in the wake of this familiar foe. After a desperate frenzy of emergency actions to cull the damage of the season, the farm fell into the comparatively lackadaisical routine of the winter life, where there was little to attempt and less to accomplish for the benefit of the farm. Big Macintosh, after a few days where Applejack suspected he was deliberately avoiding being alone with her, fled the tedium of the homestead by traveling with his friends, but unlike when his sister did it; it was probably not for some unfathomably important mission for the good of Equestria. But like her, he did enjoy the company of some close friends. Helped get some of his mind off certain things.

Applejack whittled away the time as best she could. Without Big Macintosh’s omnipresence, it was easier to think clearly. Without his tempting flank dancing in front of her everytime she turned around, she found it easier to stay to calm, and occupied her idle hooves with the few tasks that she could find in the short, chilly winter days. Or whatever escapade her friends decided it was a good idea to drag her into.

However, after taking proper inventory of their seeds for the third time in a week, she found herself in the musty storage room more often than not. Pacing the dusty floor, occasionally spilling something just so she’d have something to do, her mind was free to wander to the further reaches of her concerns and fears.

Was it all just a fling? Did Big Macintosh, in a heated and instantaneous moment of passion, acquiesce to her fitful demands because he was momentarily evoked into losing his head by his sister’s strange behavior? Would he, with a understanding and sad smile, pull her to the side when he finally returned to the farm and explain in impersonal detail why it was mistake that they were acting the way they did, and the impertinence of their relationship? Was that why he fled the farm - to regain him bearings, to clear his head of his sister and re-evaluate his moral positions?

She began to think that she had made an egregious error. It probably wasn’t right to let him just go like that. It would confirm all his worst suspicions - he’d suspect that she was just desperate, and, in her need, displaying a languid concern for properness, was compelled to use her brother for her gratification? Would he think that her willingness to allow him departure stemmed wholly from a lack of commitment? These questions and dozens of others swarmed her as she paced back and forth, mystery layered on speculation and making the young mare’s head spin. She bucked a nearby barrel in frustration, and that helped for a few minutes - until her aching body reminded her of her brother’s absence.

She should have just claimed him, she decided. She could have. If she had forced herself on him, Big Macintosh’s protests would be so much wasted words in his mouth, turning into a moaning and begging before they even reached his lips. He wanted it just as pitifully as her, perhaps even more so. If she had pushed his face down into the dirt and took him in abject rejection of his stated desires, she knew she could have done so with impunity.

Was it all in the past? Had the winter storm frozen their passions - encased them permanently into a block of impenetrable ice? Would they thaw, or would their lust forever remain a sculpture - something pleasant to reflect on, but containing a tragic sense of finality that it was impossible to do so without wondering what might have been?

He answered her concerns as soon as possible. The very day after Winter-Wrap Up, when the activity of the farm was finally compelled into full locomotion by the return of spring, he paraded himself in front of her intentionally, showing off every inch of the body that had occupied every passage of her mind in the time he’d been gone. By evening, Applejack was reduced to a functionless pillar of lust, able to do nothing but stare, drooling, at her sashaying sexy big brother with a look of blank, amazed lust. The months of idleness had not been kind to desires and she was desperately trying to hide her swollen length under her tail as she pretended to focus on work, staring at Big Macintosh out of the corner of her eye whenever he bent over, or did anything at all, really.

She was relieved when she finally figured out him game. With an embarrassed grin at her own naivety, she walked up to Big Macintosh as he hammered on the framework of a wall, and grabbed his tail with her teeth. He spurted out, between fits of excited laughter, insincere complaints and protests as she dragged him by his tail into the forest, still smiling and not responding. His limbs beat on her body ineffectually in a mock-struggle. When they were safely concealed behind a large oak, and she shoved Big Macintosh’s face to the ground and buried her snout into him rump and him protests immediately gave way to delirious, needy babbling, she knew that there was no going back. Their relationship had changed forever. And Applejack couldn’t be more happy, save for the reluctance Big Macintosh still possessed to parlay their enthusiasm for each other into a final consummation.

Big Macintosh, for dozenth time in the last hour, found himself leaning against a tree for support. It was a few weeks after Winter-Wrap Up, and a rainy spring had set in without delay. He was in the depths of Sweet Apple Acres, alone, as he had been for most of the day. Regular patrols of the farm were an established routine of the Apple Family, but this one had an explicit purpose. They hadn’t taken the rumors of a tribe of Diamond Dogs moving down from the mountains with any severity, at first. Those types of threats abounded with every turn of the calendar.

That was, of course, until, one day after nightfall, Applebloom, covered in patches of dark dirt and twigs came rushing into the kitchen sobbing and shouting incessantly. After they had calmed her down, she explained about the ‘monster’ she’d seen on the edges of their farm, climbing a tree to take an apple. Part of the collective response of her family chalked it up to a child’s overactive imagination, but any threat to the farm deserved to be taken seriously, so Big Macintosh and Applejack had investigated. All the signs confirmed it - missing apples, scratched trees, clumsy trails of foreign prints. The siblings were set on consistent, alternating patrols, so far no closer to catching the culprits than a few brief encounters with quickly fleeing silhouettes out of the corner of their vision. It had been a week since Big Macintosh had had any contact with his sister save waking her up for her turn and immediately collapsing into sleep. All for the good of the farm.

_I’ve been feelin’ funny all day._ Mac thought to himself as he leaned and shivered against the tree.  _I hope I ain’t gettin’ sick...not at a time like this._ He pushed himself off the supporting obelisk with an weary grunt. He felt like he was burning up from the inside out. There was a fire deep in him gut and its warmth spread to every inch of him body. His heart was pounding in his chest, and him breathing grew pained if he took a few steps. The big gulps of air he began to take out of necessity did nothing to quell the dull, featureless ache that made was making it hard to stand. Instead, they fanned the flames of the burning inside of him.

“Shoot...” he enunciated to himself, the brought his unshorn hoof up to his forehead. It came away clammy and wet with sweat, visibly trembling even now as he looked at it. He blinked in passive confusion. This wasn’t like any sickness he could remember encountering. His gaze turned upwards, but instead of the bright, overbearing sun he expected to identify as a culprit for the intense heat, he found a mere flickering light, barely able to penetrate the muggy sky.

_Why am I so hot?_ he asked himself internally, after take a few more shaking steps. “Where’s Applejack when you need her,” he grumbled to himself, “she’d know how to fix whatever’s wrong with me...” The ground underneath him spun in wide, lazy circles as his hooves struggled to find a steady hold in the wet grass.

He wandered, confused and directionless, around the property, his sophisticated patrol route now degenerated to a simple, aimless path from tree to tree. There was no way he could continue to be effective in his state - his goal was now simply getting home. Unfortunately, even that objective proved to be a lofty enough, as the haze of humidity in the saturated, wet air seemed to swirl into him body and blur his mind, turning the familiar, rolling farmland into a collection of strange shapes and unfamiliar geography.

Voices echoed in the distance, followed by a bout of hyena-like laughter. Big Macintosh, normally, would have perked in the direction of the offending sound, but now simply turned his head gently towards them. Unbidden, and without clear purpose, his hooves began carrying him towards the voices. They were unfamiliar to him, but there was a certain appeal to them that Big Macintosh couldn’t place.  _Maybe they can help me..._ he thought, almost accidentally, as his wobbling legs carried him towards them.

He emerged from the forest of trees, still trembling. There was a small, unkempt pathway in the woods, seldom used by the family, but now being occupied by a pair of mares that made their way gradually towards Big Macintosh. They were engrossed in conversation while munching on stolen apples, and, now having a form to connect to the voices, vague whispers of familiarity played at the corners of the his consciousness. He’d seen these ponies before - they were of a pair of Canterlot University students, vacationing in Ponyville. They had had the gall to saddle up to him whenever he was in the tavern with the other Elements and attempt a clumsy, childish come-on. With a flat rejection and a not-too-idle threat, they had simply smirked at him and backed down, but for some reason that wasn’t that important to the orange blonde pony. The burning in his stomach intensified at the sight of them, but it transformed into a pleasurable and comforting heat rather than a consuming one. Without making the deliberate decision to do so, he wandered towards them.

Their confused faces morphed into wide, malicious grins whenever they finally noticed him stumbling towards them. Tossing aside their food in ecstatic delight, the blue unicorn hurriedly nudged her pegasus companion. “See?!” she cried, her voice cracking in excitement. “I told you we’d find one! Spring’s always a good time for these country bucks.” Big Macintosh stopped, still trembling, in the middle of the road. There was something familiar in their gazes, a hint of something he’d seen all the time lately, but tinged with cruelty. He withered and whimpered under their stares.

“P-please...” he said, so quiet that they might have not even heard him. “Help..”

They walked nonchalantly up to him and began circling him, never allowing the cruel grins or lustful stares to drop from their faces. They examined him like a predator with a conquered prey in her grips - something that had already been defeated absolutely, and now it was just a matter of figured out how best to tear it apart and savor it. Big Macintosh stepped in passive circles, trying to discern what they were doing but coming up short.

“You need it bad, don’t you?” The pegasus said, her voice high-pitched and child-like. Big Macintosh didn’t respond, and wasn’t even sure he understood what she was asking him. The unicorn took a step closer and brushed her flank up against his, sending a tingling throughout his entire body and forcing a low, throaty moan from him lips.

“Oh yeah,” the pegasus said, with a satisfied glance at her companion, “he needs it.”

“Fuuuuckk....” he heard the unicorn say from behind him, his concentration still on the pegasus as she stared into his eyes, making him shiver. “Look at the rump on  _him_...” He felt something that he’d felt before with lovers in distant, dark rooms - a pair of hooves running all over his backside, eager to touch every inch of his perfect hindquarters. There was something different about this pony’s touch however - it left him quaking and groaning.

Suddenly, there was a loud crack as the unicorn smacked his rump savagely. His shriek echoed through the forest, brought out partially in shock, but mostly in abject delight. His plump rump was still rolling from the pony’s brutal blow as he started backing up and shoving it towards her, eager to be struck again. The pony gladly cooperated and brought her hoof up for another strike, spurred by his reaction.

The pony still in front him brought her face inches from his. He could smell her foul breath. His heart was racing from excitement and he was panting in front of her. “Wha...what...” he managed to voice, the rational side of him mind putting up a desperate struggle to stay relevant.

The idle utterance was completely ignored. “You’re one horny bitch, aren’t you?” the pegasus asked breathlessly in excited passion. Needing no answer, with a sudden jerk she mashed her snout into his and forced her tongue into his mouth. Each spank the unicorn delivered behind him caused him to moan into the mouth of this stranger. Him rump was bruised and battered as she struck him again and again, but it hurt so good.

The pegasus broke the kiss and immediately launched into an oral assault on Big Macintosh’s face, kissing and licking him all over, absolutely overcome with desire, delirious with lust. He felt his tail being lifted out of the way, the sticky wet hair smacking against him back in a soggy clump.

When the unicorn touched her hoof to his sack, it was electric. He yipped and almost bucked as pleasure, in a veritable surge, coursed through him body over and over, leaving him tingling and tremulous when it subsided.

When he felt a tongue shoved against him, he groaned in lust and his forelimbs gave away and body jerked forward, his head resting against the dirt and his tongue extended lewdly. He had never felt this kind of pleasure before. The mare currently playing at his nethers playfully nipping at his apple cores, might as well have belonged to some carnal deity, and he was left speechless and shuddering in its wake. The only sounds he could make at the point, he did so without hesitation - the forest reverberated with him inane demanding and deep, unrestrained howls of need.

The sun died and a grey shadow occupied his vision. He raised his head from the ground and looked up. Standing over his collapsed form was the unicorn, and right in front of his face was her cunt, which was pulsing in excitement with each of the mares heartbeats. Big Macintosh felt a terrible ache whenever he saw it, his body forced into fascination through his need.

“Come on, bitch,” he heard from above him, “I’m sure you know what to do.”

_Still not as big..._  Macintosh’s mind conjured that phrase unbidden as he stuck out his tongue and inched towards her soaked, exposed mottled erection.

He felt a oddly satisfying weight on his rump now, then he was surprised to feel the mare grab ahold of his sex, gingerly coaxing it backwards. He raised one of his legs to allow her better access as she managed to swap so his penis was angled backwards, the slight discomfort it caused him was quickly dismissed in favor of more arousal, besides, it didn’t feel that strange, mostly thanks to the flexibility of his sex. Then when her wet, heated folds began rubbing against him, everything about his body coalesced into a paradise of understanding and contentment. Finally, this is what he needed to make him all better. They had dispensed with the pleasantries and he was about to get what a good little colt like him needed. He inched backwards, needing to be encased by her deep, wide, wet wonder...  _yet it paled in comparison to hers..._

“W-wait...why do you get him first...” the unicorn whined petulantly. “And... why are yo-”

“Shut up,” her companion cut her off commandingly, “you’ll get your turn. We’re gonna have this buck to ourselves all night. Sides’ you can prolly get him to polish that crystal ball o yours for the creamy filling, sounds like a fair trade to me.” The mare gave a bemused grin to her companion in front of her.

The sound of heavy hooves racing up the dirt trail pulled the mares from their desire. The pegasus hopped off of Big Macintosh, and, instantly, he felt a deep dissatisfaction and yearning, the slight pain in his length made itself  more known. Like a simpering dog he let out pitiful, desperate sounds.

“Hey, who’s this punk?” the pegasus asked her companion, oblivious to the needs of the stallion beside her. Her voice rose and she shouted down the trail. The sound of galloping hooves continued undeterred. “Hey! Back off. We found him fir-”

A large crack and a shrill, barking cry interrupted the mare’s statement, and she thudded to the ground behind Big Macintosh. Light flooded Big Macintosh’s vision again as the unicorn above him was pulled off violently and tossed to the side. He looked up with vague concern at who had interrupted his satisfaction, and saw his sister charging the unicorn, who yelped in fear and whisked herself away in a quick burst of magical energy, but apparently not quick enough as a shriek was heard before the flash settled, whatever AJ had aimed for, she’d hit it hard enough to leave a mark before the mare had so cowardly escaped, leaving her friend to the farmponys mercy.

Snorting and consumed by rage, Applejack spun around and rushed at the pegasus, who was just now beginning to pick herself up off of the ground. She was howling in pain and coughing out teeth and blood as Applejack tackled her to the ground, slamming down her hoof onto the pony’s wing with a sickening crunch. She raised the other in the air, the sun lighting triumphantly behind it, and held it high above her head, baring down on the pegasus like a flat, heavy guillotine just waiting for the order to drop. It quivered in the air, reminding the stallion of the sudden fragility of her skull. Applejack’s face was severe, specked with blood, and horrifically impassive. It was obvious that this mare’s life now meant nothing to her. If she ended it now - if she reduced her youthful countenance to so much bits of bone and flesh and grey matter with a single slam of her hoof, it wouldn’t trouble her. There would be no regrets, no doubts, no nightmares. At least not until she realized what she’d done.

This realization caused abject terror to flood the pegasus. She was blathering through her mangled mouth, a slushy of words fervently denying her crimes then begging forgiveness for them. Blood flew like spittle from the forceful desperation of her pleas, which were becoming increasingly undecipherable through the disarray of her sobbing. She was an adult a minutes ago - now she was a confused, panicking foal. When she was reduced to pleading and crying, her eyes shut tight in expectation of inevitable death, Applejack lifted her hoof from her broken wing. Without another intelligible word, she lept up and bolted from the scene, trying once to fly with her irreparable wings before crashing back to the ground.

Applejack waited only until she had hobbled her way out of sight before running over to her brother. She picked him up off the ground.

“AJ, are you okay?!” she said, voice concerned in a way it seldom ever was.

“A-Applejack?” Big Macintosh replied, him languid body barely able to rise even with her support.

“Mac, what’s wrong w-” she began to demand, then noticed the smell. Past the iron smell of blood, there was an all too familiar scent. The mare shook her head to clear it of the resulting dizziness, and felt her clit began to emerge, half-erect, from its hood. The adrenaline flooding through her made her excited and antsy, but concern for her little sister overrode anything. It clicked into place: his half-lidded eyes, the vacant smile, the fact that he allowed those two weedy mares to work him over and was sloppily stiff with arousal because of it.

“Shoot, Mac,” she groaned, rubbing her head with one hoof in exasperation. “Spring mares are in season this month, ain’t they?” Applejack wasn’t sure if the sound he gave in response was an affirmation or just the inarticulate enunciations of an aroused stallion. He swayed side to side like a pony that had had far too much to drink.

“We gotta get you home, Mac,” she decided, “Tarnation, why didn’t you tell nobody you have hard to control yourself?”

“Howdy, Applejack” he responded drunkenly as if noticing her for the first time. His voice was slurring. He saddled up to her in deliberate, clumsy steps. “Fancy seeing you here...not that I’m complain’”. His eyes moved up and down her body in a unfocused, lustful stare.

“Mac, we gotta get you home,” she repeated. The smell was nearly overwhelming. Despite the mares being gone, the scent of their arousal was not. And being mixed with her brothers didn’t improve the situation.

“Not with what I have in mind, we don’t. How ‘bout we stay out here all night and play? I...I think I’d fancy a roll in a hay with you, lil’ sis...”

_Nope._  The ardent denial formed immediately in Applejack’s mind, in direct contrast her body’s betrayal as in cunt twitched and loosened with each word her little spoke.  _Nope. Nope. Nope._ Without another word, and ignoring everything Big Macintosh was saying, she threw him over her back, having her strain a little with effort, her brother was quite large after all. He didn’t resist, collapsing into mewling malleability at her touch, and she began galloping home. _Nope nope nope_. The mantra repeated endlessly in her head as Big Macintosh whispered tantalizing confessions into her ear about all the things he wanted to do with her.  _Nope._ Applejack was a honest mare who’d made a point to never take a stallion whenever he was influenced by heat, even if he was outright demanding it.  _And I’m not about to break that record with my_ _ **big brother**_ _, for Celestia’s sake!_ She counted apple trees on her trot home to distract her.

When they arrived home, Applejack thanked her luck that Granny Smith had taken Applebloom into the city to visit relatives. They’d be gone for at least a few days longer, which would be long enough for the season to pass, and for her brother to get out of his haze and for everything to go back to normal. Transversing the entirely empty, house, she ran upstairs and shoved Big Macintosh into his room, shutting the door to interpose a barrier between himself and him. With stoic adamancy, she positioned herself as a sentinel, guarding the treasure of her life.  _Ain't no mare getting to my brother long as I’m here._

A few hours later, she was sitting on the ground, rubbing her slit slowly between her hooves as it jutted out in a small bulge, still hard as a rock inside while moist and soft outside. Her brother was still locked in his room, but he’d hardly calmed down. AJ was a bit perplexed to how sensitive her brother was to the scent of mares in season. She could hear him pacing and trotting back and forth, bucking the wall or his wardrobe occasionally, announcing his frustrations in frequent, loud cries of anguish and anger. She closed her eyes tight and let out a restrained grunt as, for the third time since she’d arrived at the house, she felt her walls clench and her cunt began spurting, sending long ropes of lubricant splattering across the floor to join the other two loads she’s already shot, in a pitiful attempt to experience catharsis from her desires. It was no use. It didn’t nothing to absolve the need, and, even before her breathing had regulated itself from her orgasm, she felt himself growing hard at the thought and smell and sound of her horny brother.  _Shoot, Mac...why did I have to have such a sexy sibling?_ She bemoaned internally as her hooves found their way naturally to her swelling cunt.

She was paralyzed with lust, inhibited by desire. She couldn’t stand and she was covered in her own sweat and smelled of mare cum and astringent horny stallion from where Big Macintosh had rubbed his nethers on her during the trip home. She found herself considering the fragility of the oak door that separated her from her desires.

It was a cruel thing, Big Macintosh’s frailty to heat. If a week ago her brother had displayed a fraction of this enthusiasm, she had no doubt that she’d have been all over him like red on an apple. Now, unfortunately, AJ’s addled mind compelled her to behave responsibly, but it did nothing to quell the echos of desire reverberating through her, making her twitch and ache and touch herself to the thought of giving into them. Go, Instinct told her, excitedly, go, there’s a horny stallion in there, begging for you! What does it matter that he’s your brother? He wants it, you want it, and there’s no one here to judge.

Applejack noticed, somehow, the absence of sound beyond the door. The furious slamming of hooves on the walls and floor and the panicking, bestial snorts had ceased. She tensed up, listening hard. Maybe Big Macintosh had finally fallen asleep, or calmed down. Just as she was about to stand, though, she heard something that answered those questions.

“Applejack...” her big brother moaned from the other side of the door. He somehow turned those words from her name into a declaration of desire, making them sound like a primal, greedy moan more than any coherent statement. She could practically feel the lust dripping from his voice. Every part of her body stiffened.

“Sis’ ...I was thinkin...’ he continued. She wanted to block out the words, to shut him out, to yell back but she couldn’t and just turned her ear towards the door, listening hard. “and...I reckon it’s about time we get to some ruttin’.”

“Big Macintosh,” she moaned back at him, taking in long, heavy breaths, her cunt aching at his words. “We...we ca-”

“I’ve been such a bad brother to you,” he interrupted, sounding genuinely guilty. “Teasin’ you and all and not never lettin’ you get a proper taste. It wasn’t very right of me at all.”

Applejack’s hooves began moving up and down her slits length again.

“Lemme make it up to you...” he continued “I’ll let you put it in or around whatever hole or surface you want, how about that? You can stick it wherever you want.”

The images of her doing just that filled her mind. They were familiar, but somehow augmented by him words. It was like a coltfriend she had back in highschool who wouldn’t asquence to physical intercourse with her but who deigned to talk dirty to her while she touched herself to his imagination. But this was so much better, and so much worse. All it was was a simple little door and her own failing sense of propriety interposing, now.

“I can smell you in there, you know. I know you want me, I know you can’t help but touch yourself to me. You’ve told me as much yourself, you silly mare.”

There was no denying that he was right, no chance of arguing his claims. She did want him - oh  _Celestia,_ how she wanted him.

“I can smell all that there, little sister. How many times have you shot off already, you naughty pony? All that just for me...You smell so good, Applejack. Almost as good as you taste. Did I ever tell you how much I love your taste, little sister? You’re sweet to the core.  I’d be fine if you just wanna shoot it all down my throat...that’d be just fine with me... even if you’d want to fill me up, I’d let you.”

“Big Macintosh,” she pleaded with him, “Knock it off. We can’t. You’re my big brother, remember?” She hoped that returning his own argument to him would restore some sense of sanity in the crazed stallion.

“Why, that don’t matter a tick now,” he replied happily, batting down her pithy excuses with an disinterested ease. “All that does matter now is that I’m a stallion...and you’re a mare.” He paused for a few seconds, allowing her to consider this axiom, this irrefutable truth that was currently the bane of her existence, before continuing. “Make me  **your**  stallion,” he finished.

She moaned in frustration again and shot another sticky load all over her hooves and the floor.

Big Macintosh lapsed into silence for a few minutes, and she knew he was waiting to see if she’d given in. She stood up shakily from the floor, and for a brief moment, it was as if her entire being was held, tottering, on a pinnacle, her consciousness desperately waiting to see which way she would fall. Would she, with one powerful kick, cave in the door separating her from her brother and bolt into his room, as frenzied as him?

_Nope._

She trotted away from the door, walking into the bathroom. Grabbing a red towel, she dried herself off of the cum she’d plastered herself up with mild disgust. She was confirmed in her own willpower, and assured that she had made the right decision. With a chuckle she threw the towel into the hamper, knowing that in a few days her and Big Macintosh, perhaps with a face burning with embarrassment, would laugh about this. Applejack would probably see fit to sit him down and talk to him about the things he’s said, if only to try to draw some sort of understanding about where they stood in their relationship, and as siblings.

Those were plans for a later date, though, and now there was little to do but wait.

The sound of breaking glass from down the hall shattered her sense of self-satisfaction.

_Shoot._

She broke into a run, sprinting down the hallway and shouldering Big Macintosh’s door. The wooden frame splintered and cracked easily from her bulk and the door fell forward into an empty room. She rushed over to the broken window in time to see Big Macintosh coming out of a surprisingly athletic dive and, apparently unharmed and unfazed, begin galloping with all his speed up the road towards town, leaving a flabbergasted AJ in his wake.

Ignoring how pleasant the room that Big Macintosh had been cooped up in smelled, she cursed at him and bolted out of it, barreling down the stairs and out of the house recklessly in an effort to corral her needy brother. He was already a fading a dot on the horizon, and she took off after him, her hooves slamming ground and kicking up dirt behind her as the familiar acres realized themselves and the house faded into the distance.

The heat was obviously throwing Big Macintosh off, and on almost any other day he’d have had her outpaced and left her in the dust a mile ago. Today, however, she found herself gaining on him and soon they were in shouting distance. Big Macintosh didn’t even seem to notice her as she galloped beside him.

With a furious tackle, she lunged for her sprinting brother and threw her limbs around him. The soft grass on the side of the road provided a suitably soft cushion for the landing of the Apple siblings, who had become a tangled mess of limbs, mane, and sweat.

To this day, Applejack could never figured out how they managed to untangle themselves in such a way that Big Macintosh’s rump was grinding against her cunt, his face in the grass and her standing over him, a towering monolith of muscles. Before she could retreat from the compromising position, her brother swung the hat down from her head and clench it between his teeth. “You should be more gentle with your big brother,” he said, muffled.

And that was all it took.

The final crack in the dam was finally caused it to break, and hunger and craving consumed her absolutely. The knife tilted irremediably to one side, and she tumbled off its edge and landed solidly. The distant, wailing she heard was last echoes of decency reverberating through her mind, now being properly sorted into a small box of irrelevancy at the sight of her brother laying under her. Where before, mere minutes ago, the ancient morals had seemed hold strong and fast against animalistic desire, now they had collapsed and appeared to be no more than scrambling, factitious, pathetic children, trying desperately and futilely to check primordial forces far beyond their reckoning.

What could be more simple, more natural, more perfect than the two of them? It was as Big Macintosh said - at their core, this was a mare and stallion with needs and wants. Like a gem, they were cut irreducibly to their most pure and beautiful forms - a pair of mating ponies.

“You sure you want this, Mac?” The death throes of modesty compelled her to voice one final challenge.

“More ‘an anything,” he whispered instantly out of the corner of his mouth, digging his hooves into the ground for leverage.

She lined her massive cunt up with his tip, teasing it gently. He was bucking backward wantonly, greedily, nothing but satisfaction on his mind and his sister being fit to satisfy that itch. Even with how erect he was, Applejack’s girth were still somewhat countered by her muscles, making it a difficult squeeze. She was gentle with him. When he felt her inch forward and began to spread her lips around his shaft, pressing with the head of her clit as she did, he stopped moving. There was no need for a greedy insistence anymore - he was getting what he wanted.

Applejack could feel the heat radiating from Big Macintosh in a wave. His rod as hot as an iron, burning in need. She pushed her insides around him as slowly as possible, and let out a satisfied grunt whenever she managed to slid a few more centimeter onto him. Pausing to allow her brother to grow acclimated to this, she pushed downward again after a few seconds. Already, the walls of her tunnel were writhing, pulsing, milking him with improbable heat. His cock twitched ever so often , as much as her walls allowed it. Friction was nonexistent - the sopping wetness made her cunt slide slowly around her brother with ease. His hindlegs moved with cautious, tentative speed apart from one another - spreading himself to allow his sister taking him deeper and deeper inside, stretching more and more.

The only thing that kept Big Macintosh from shrieking was the hat clenched tightly between his teeth. Despite him eyes being shut tight, thin tears rolled from them. There was only so much he could have prepared for - fantasies about her massive marehood, imaging it plunging around of him, pretending other mares were her, it equated to absolutely nothing now that it was actually, slowly, torturously, forcing its way down along him. He felt like he was being compressed, an immense wave of pleasure and pain driving up his core. The voice of Applejack had been reduced to a collection of simplistic grunts at each few part of herself she embedded over him. He kept expecting it to stop, it to finally be over and fully inside her, but it never did, just bit after bit of her impossibly thick folds and walls forcing its way around him.

This was a culmination of years of desire. Years of repressed lust that had been alight inside the siblings had finally boiled over and this is what they were reduced to - fucking on the side of the road, the world around them completely ignored. Months and months of foreplay seemed to lead directly into this event, and Big Macintosh couldn’t help but feel that it was worth the wait.

She finally did bottom out around of him, or so he thought, before she gave him a grin, and he felt his balls cupped by her tail before she thrust down against his hilt, amazingly forcing his sack inside as well to his delight, her full, heavy labia smacking lightly against the remains of Big Macintosh sheath and it immediately becoming coated in the warm, thick girlcum that AJ was dripping all around her brother’s cock. Both of the ponies were gasping and panting, her cunt firmly nested around him. Sweat dripped from Applejack onto her big brother and as their bodies rubbed together it was hard to tell whose was whose. They were one now.

“T-there you go, Applejack,” Big Macintosh said, the organ deeply around him causing his breathing to grow short and erratic. “Jus’ like that...n-nice and slow with your big brother. Don’t wanna go hurtin’ him now.”

They remained like this. Both ponies were fidgeting. It was incredible how perfect, how full, how content Big Macintosh felt. The distant yearning, the mild hunger that had ate away in the depths of him consciousness even since he first walked in on Applejack masturbating, was finally fulfilled, and  _oh Celestia_ did it feel good. There was no adequate reason why they hadn’t done this sooner, no possible excuse for not doing this every single day for the rest of their lives. His hooves were plodding the ground idly, wanting to back up, wanting this to last forever, for him to never have to feel empty again.

He felt her begin to withdraw. Her enormous cunt, that was generously covering him in juices, slowly began to slide off him and a dull panic engulfed him. He began to whimper and moan, unashamed, until he heard the comforting voice of his sister, tinged with a feminine and rough infliction brought on from her descension into the baser parts of consciousness.

“Shh, it’s okay,” she said, calming him down, “I’m gonna fuck you now, Big Macintosh.” It was the first time he had ever heard her curse, and there was something about the pure excitement in her voice that drove Big Macintosh wild. He resisted - barely - the temptation to buck upwards in excitement.

She repeated the motions from before, sliding around him slightly faster than before, forcing a moan from Big Macintosh before he hurriedly bit down on her hat to stifle any louder sounds. Every time she pushed back onto him, the strong walls clenched down on him, the pleasure it caused had desperate to keep her embrace of him, and when she pulled back, she found her brother arching his back and pushing himself upwards. They began a slow, rocking motion, their hips fitting together like perfect puzzle pieces as they pushed against one another.

Big Macintosh mumbled something that was completely lost amid the gentle, wet sounds of their slow copulation.

Applejack stopped. “What was that, Apple tart?” she whispered down at him gently.

He spit the hat to the ground, “Harder,” he commanded.

Applejack was hesitant, at first, but when the first rough slam brought Big Macintosh’s face to the ground and made him cum all over her vag, she couldn’t help but see the abandoning of any tenderness to be wholly positive thing. Most stallions she had been with had commanded her to move as slowly as possible so her immense cunt’s powerful muscles wouldn’t cause any pain, but Big Macintosh was insisting on the opposite - first vocally, and now with his body. The gentle, slow lovemaking that they had been performing quickly devolved into a rough, desperate mating - the kind that a young couple who couldn’t keep their hooves off of each other acted out whenever they snuck behind a building and tried to get one another off as quickly as possible. Their bodies struck one another in repeated, angry collisions. Warm liquid drooled from the hole pounding down on Big Macintosh, coating his abdomen in mutual stickiness as the rubbed up against one another. His tail wrapped around hers as much as it could with surprising vigor.

Big Macintosh couldn’t compose himself. He tried to lift himself off the ground but found the task impossible, collapsing with his front legs splayed and his mouth hanging open. Every word he tried to utter became nothing more than lustful babbling before it reached his lips. She was so **fucking big** and she was slamming against him so hard that his entire body jerked forward with each thrust, grinding his face against the ground. There was nothing that could compare to this - past experiences with bumbling lovers were so far removed from this that they didn’t even attract comparison. He couldn’t even move - his entire body left quaking in pleasure, he could only lay there as his sister bottomed out inside him over and over, her muscular hips slamming onto his cushiony tummy.

Suddenly, though, she stopped. The acute absence of the movement that Big Macintosh’s body been moving too caused him to look up in shock. Applejack towered over him, and whispered into his ear.

“Is this good for you, sugarcube? You like getting screwed by your lil’ sister?” A coy smile played at the corners of her lips. Seeing Big Macintosh - her composed, reserved big brother - moaning and grinding against her like a whore brought out a part of her that rarely showed itself.

“Don’t you dare stop,” he gasped, finally able to enunciate clear words now that she had stopped screwing him as hard as she could. “You hear me? Fuck me.”

“I think I can do that, Mac,” she said, and pulled back.

She was interrupted by the sound of conversation from further of the road. Pulled from her concentration on her sister, she glanced upwards and saw two stallions making their way idly towards the Apple estate, engrossed in conversation with one another. She recognized them dimly as two of Big Macintosh friends.

In a panic, she leapt off of her brother. Her sibling didn’t maintain the same of concern for modesty, and started shouting at her as she pulled out off him. He pulled himself off the ground with wobbly legs and noticed the two intruders to their coitus.

“Shoot,” he said blankly.

He gasped in shock as Applejack grabbed his tail and pulled him off the side of the road, dropping him after they had hidden themselves behind a few layers of trees. Applejack had pressed herself against a tree and watched the pair of stallions wandered by them, chatting and laughing. Before they had even passed, however, she felt a warm heat dragging along the length of her cunt. She looked back in shock and partially concealed by her tail, found her brother looking back at her with wide eyes, his tongue drawing slow lines up and down her erection, which was still dripping and twitching from their interrupted rutting.

“We ain’t stoppin’ on account of nothing,” he said

She was in no mood to argue.

She backed away from the tree she was leaning against and pushed her brother up against it perhaps a bit harder than she should have. He didn’t complain - instead, he smiled widely back at her as she took her proper place against him and lined up her cunt with his dick once again.

As she slid back onto him, Big Macintosh had to cover his mouth with his hoof to deaden the sounds of his pleasure. Applejack let out muted grunts as she took on a slow, insufferably calm pace. The ponies on the road appeared not to notice the mating siblings through the thicket.

Big Macintosh didn’t even appear to care if they did. He kept pushing back against her, trying to encourage her to to fuck him harder, to coax herself deeper and deeper around him. Applejack, a cruel and mischievous part of her emerging, picked up her pace and grabbed his body for support, standing on one hind leg as she rode him up against the tree, going back to the rough screwing that she now knew her brother required.

She leaned forward and grabbed a mouthful of her brother’s soaked mane. As she pulled him out, she jerked back and pulled it roughly, wrenching his head away from his hoof and causing him to shriek in surprise and delight.

The ponies on the road skidded to a halt. Big Macintosh’s cry echoed throughout the forest, and the stallions spun around in slow, uneasy circles, trying to identify the source of the disturbance. The reverberation of the shout through the trees made it sound like it came from every direction at once.

Applejack held her brother close, frozen as she stared in trepidation at the worried ponies peering around quizzically a short trot from where she was currently mating with her sibling. The fear was tinged with distant excitement, and, somehow, she felt the bizarre yearning for others to know the carnal satisfaction that Big Macintosh and she had found together.

Big Macintosh grinded against her mercilessly. He was shameless at this point - his muffled murmuring never stopped as his balls rubbed against her folds. She tried to tell him to calm down, but found her own body moving in concert with his.

The bewildered ponies on the road started whispering to one another, their ears still perked up in search of what had broken the tranquilness of the acres. One of them, with a gasp, jutted a hoof towards the side of the road. The other turned and looked, and Applejack realized what they had discovered - Applejack’s characteristic hat still sat abandoned on the ground.

Applejack kept her breath inside of her as she held herself still for one precarious second. The two ponies then turned and dashed, with frantic haste, down the road towards the Apple’s house, no doubt deciding, for lack of a better alternative, to start their investigation there. She let out the breath in a relieved snort.

“Do you want them to know?” Applejack asked through a mouthful of her brother’s hair, tugging roughly on it again. The bestial and feral side of her was reemerging now that the immediate danger has passed. “Do you want them to know that you’re foolin’ around with your little sister?”

“Yeessssss...” Big Macintosh moaned, out of his mind. He was delirious with arousal and Applejack was sure he didn’t even know what he was saying - he was simply desperate to submit and acquiesce to whatever the mare that was bringing him this much pleasure said. She could tell him anything and he’d nod fervently in compliance, all the while rocking his body up and down along her cunt in the hopes of turning her attention to a much more pertinent matter.

“Now, where were we...” Applejack said, dragging her hooves along his body before finally settling them on his shoulders and gripped him tightly for support. “You might wanna hold on tight, Mac. This might get a little rough.” Big Macintosh grinned and held on tight to the tree behind him. Him rear hooves planted themselves into the soil.

There was no need for any more hesitation. Applejack pulled back and immediately started pistoning herself up and down around him as fast and savagely as possible. Tears flowed freely down Big Macintosh’s face as the combination of intense pleasure and pain overwhelmed him. The tree shook as Applejack pounded against him again and again, pushing him brutally against it.

They were regressed to mutual states of inarticulacy, only able to sputter unintelligible sounds of lust at each other. Their minds were blank, able to cognize nothing but each other. They were in another world - one that only contained the two of them. Each time she hilted him inside of her, her pussy felt like it was trapping his dick in a hot, wet vice, and she squeezed her depths relentlessly, making her brother whiny, bucking his hips upwards to press her folds tighter against him, almost as if he was desperate to keep her balls-deep around him, almost like he wanted to seal their sexes in a tight lock with each other. There was nothing elegant about the way they were rutting now - it was two animals in heat fucking each other’s brains out, consumed by passion and lust for each other. The leaves began to dance in the wind around them, shook loose from the ferocity of their mating. She leaned down and, dissolving into delirium, frantically began kissing the front of her brother’s neck, running her tongue all over his coat. She want to taste every bit of him, he was so perfect. She breathed in deeply the smell of his sweat and the heady aroma of his musk. She had never smelled anything so amazing.

She wasn’t going to last much longer. She’d been waiting for this moment for so long, far too long. Big Macintosh was struggling to stay upright, his hindlegs quivering and sore as his massive brother hammered down onto him violently.

“Big Macintosh...” she said, barely managing to get the word out. Though she had stopped moving, Big Macintosh was insatiable and continued permeating himself through her pussy.

“Big Macintosh,” she said again. “I’m close...”

If anything, Big Macintosh started moving with even more vigor. There was no way they were going to stop now.

“I need to pull out, Mac,” she gasped. There was no way she was going to last more than a few seconds longer.

Big Macintosh glanced back at her with conviction. “Oh no you don’t,” he blathered. “Oh no, d-don’t you fucking dare.” He refused to stop moving, to stop trying to milk her cunt. “You plaster your big b-brother right now, Applejack.”

The argument he made was far too compelling to resist. With one final thrust, the massive organ burying itself deep around his, causing him to cum again, squirting hot liquid all inside his sisters abyss. His shaft was buried deeply inside of her as her immense muscles clenched down and squeezed and wantonly massaged him as she came, and, as she could _feel_  him twitching inside of her, bucking feebly in hopes to press against her sweet spot, to give her more pleasure. He knew she was at her peak, swiftly moving one of his hooves around her rear to rapidly stroke at her pulsating, unfolded family jewel. She collapsed on top of him, burying her face in his mane as she came.

Overwhelmed by the hoof and flaring of her brothers dick, she felt her entire body clench as she came, shooting her load all over his abdomen, her thick juices thoroughly coating his limb, flowing down over his orbs, some even finding it’s way inside of him, the intense streams finding crevices in his sheath as the rest flowed down his legs and pooled on the ground. Her hips bucked into his as she rode out the orgasm, thrusting onto him as spurt after spurt of her cum flowed down him, even filling his sheath to the brim as it began to leak out as their genitals were still embedded with each other, his own cum even starting to seep out of her. Feeling the sticky warmth flow down his body made him shiver, as some poured past his dock, he bit his lip, part of him wishing his sister could more easily fill him up with her liquid affection, he wanted to feel her inside of him. They were both in tears by the end of it, and, with her brother panting beneath her, she mumbled “I love ya, Mac.”

The world came back all at once, and suddenly they were acutely aware of how exhausted they were. Gingerly, she pulled her softening cunt away from him, and a torrent of their mixed cum flooded down one of his legs. Her still unfolded clit, covered in her and her brother’s cum, was still dripping as she gently laid on the ground, feeling her clit still working for attention in her afterglow as her contractions fully died down. Big Macintosh, legs wobbling, stumbled over and curled up beside her. The burning desire that had been eating away at them from the inside had been quenched, and now was replaced by the burning of sore muscles and exhausted bodies. She wrapped her limbs around him and pulled him close, feeling her orange pearl finally coming to a rest  as she heard him sigh contentedly as he collapsed into exhaustion. Nothing, at this point, could have pulled them away from one another or compelled them to rise from the grass. They had never been more satisfied, and now what they had both hoped and feared for months was finally confirmed - they would never been more happy with anypony else then they were with each other.


End file.
